More than Ruin'd Hopes shall Mourn
by jamie2109
Summary: Draco wasn't entirely positive when he'd come to the awful conclusion that Potter had something tangible that made people love him. However, he was sure of the exact moment he realised he coveted that love enough to do something about it.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

Notes: Written for aoifene's now cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose is Envy. Thanks to aoifene, weasleywench and nocturnali for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Enjoy. This one WILL have a happy ending. Promise!

jamie

xxxx

* * *

The wizarding world was forging a new identity and it had Potter's name all over it as the new Messiah.

Potter was at the vanguard of a new era of peace and harmony. A Golden era, they were calling it. An era where the Dark Lord was gone and the spectre of death dissolved to unveil a joy the likes of which had not been seen since before the days of Grindlewald. Where wretched, snot-nosed children menaced shoppers in Diagon Alley, running around one's legs so much and making such insane giggling noises that Draco was sure their echoes menaced his nightmares. A Golden era where the shopkeepers were all smiles and gracious service until they recognised his name or his face or his hair, then the service would turn perfunctory. They'd take his money but would be barely civil in order to do it. Where wizards of all classes crossed the streets to avoid him or, if that proved impossible, they ignored him as if he didn't exist.

Where blood meant nothing unless it had been spilled on the right side of the war.

The shame of their treatment simmered as anger in Draco's stomach.

But he couldn't even properly hate it because it also meant relative safety for his family.

He could see quite clearly in his head the long line of his ancestors dating back to Claudius Malfoy in 524AD all looking down their noses at him because of what he'd reduced the family to. The Malfoy name had been one to be proud of, feared by those who trembled at the Dark and revered by those who lived in the shadows.

Past history in a time that seemed to be all sunshine and daisies.

And now there was Potter.

Everyone adored Potter; he always seemed to be laughing and smiling and people crossed the road to say hello to him, to wish him well or to ask after his health. They offered gifts, which he refused with the utmost grace – something Draco never suspected Potter had – leaving the unsuccessful giver feeling they'd done Potter a favour by keeping their gift.

Potter even managed to laugh and play with the revolting children to the point where Draco could quite easily have strangled the lot of them.

And there were no hurried gestures around Potter, no glimpses over their shoulders as if afraid they'd be attacked should they let up on their vigilance for one second. There was no mistrust, no fear.

They felt safe.

……….

Being spat on in the street by uncouth ruffians - or Mudbloods - was nothing new for Draco since the Golden Era had begun. But he refused to hide away and give any reaction to their ignorance. His mask had moulded itself over the years into solid stone and, caught early enough, he could now freeze a mouthful of spittle at ten paces.

The polite ones were worse, though.

'Mr. Malfoy, I am afraid you'll need to wait until I serve Mr. Potter and his friends.' In other words, I_his_/I custom was worth more than Draco's.

'No, that's quite alright, Madam Malkin, we'll wait our turn.'

'Of course you can't do that, Mr. Potter. What sort of person would I be to delay a hero and waste his time? Mr. Malfoy can wait.'

_Mr. Malfoy is standing right here and should be as valued a customer as Potter and his merry band of hangers on._

If only he had the courage to say that aloud. These days, saying anything against Potter and his cohorts, no matter how trivial, often as not resulted in some fairly severe hexes. Several at once if there was a crowd gathered. Pansy had encountered such a group and reported that twelve stinging hexes all at once left scars, accounted for as much by the lack of care at St. Mungo's as it was by the hexes themselves. After all, who cared if someone associated with the Dark had scars? They were lucky to be alive weren't they?

'I can see I should be taking my custom elsewhere.' Draco tried to keep his voice as polite and neutral as possible. It would be unheard of for a Malfoy to throw a tantrum in public. Besides, he'd had a lot of practice at this.

'As you wish.'

'Well, I don't wish,' Potter exclaimed angrily.

_Oh, shut the fuck up, Potter. No one asked you to stand up for me._ No point saying that aloud, either. Draco clenched his jaw.

'I certainly don't require your gracious benevolence.' There, just the right amount of sneer as to go undetected.

'You were here first and you should be served first.'

'Mr. Potter, really, I insist.'

Madam Malkin was shocked, Draco thought, really shocked that Potter expected to be treated the same as everyone else.

About as shocked as Potter seemed to be at being bluntly told that he was better than someone else. Draco had assumed he'd be used to it now.

'Let me solve the problem,' Draco said, closed fist jammed deep in his coat pocket to keep from grabbing his wand and hexing everything in sight.

He turned and left the shop, preferring to brave the wind as it blew chill and sterile down the cobbled street, than suffering the indignity of the cloying 'niceness' of Potter's consideration in the shop.

As he braced his body against the bitter wind, the stinging in his eyes became the only escape for the tightly reined emotion. Abruptly, he allowed himself the indignity of wiping at them, his frown daring anyone to deny they were caused by the wind.

Yes, they were worse. The ones who didn't even care enough to hate.

.o0o.

He wasn't entirely positive when he'd come to the awful conclusion that Potter had something tangible that made people love him. Something that transcended sexual or romantic love – although there was that, too. Every matron with a daughter of marriageable age dreamed of her being Potter's perfect match. And it wasn't even the hero kind of love. They all worshipped him for saving them, but an ordinary man would have lost their attention after a few years, where Potter drew it to him further. No, it was the human kind of love.

Maybe Draco had known it right from the start. Even he'd been disposed to be nice to the scruffy boy he'd first met in Madam Malkin's all those years go, before he'd even known who Potter was. Then there'd always been those willing to fight beside Potter, schoolboy or not, ready to lay down their lives to give him the chance to defeat Voldemort. Logically, it made no sense to have faith in a mere child to save the world, but they had anyway.

Or it might have been when Potter ran down the street after him that day, asking him to come back into the shop.

'Just leave it alone.'

'Why? You can't honestly tell me you aren't pissed off about that?'

'Of course I am, but that has nothing to do with anything.'

'It's not right.'

'No, it's not, but the winners write the rules. Those of us on the other side are left to find a way to exist among the cracks.'

'That's not how it was meant to be, Draco.'

'Don't call me that,' he ground out through a clenched jaw. Draco found his hand itching to twist in Potter's robes and shove him against the wall for daring to be familiar.

'All right.' Potter held his hands up in surrender. 'But please come back to the shop and buy whatever it was you were after.'

'So I can be humiliated again? I don't think so.'

'If it makes any difference, I told her that I'd not be prepared to shop at a place where the owner thinks so little of her customers.'

Potter was always so…_annoyingly chivalrous_, Draco decided. Always had to be doing the 'right thing', whatever that was. Abruptly irritated with Potter's earnest righteousness, Draco stopped and turned to look into a nearby shop window, peering through its dusty exterior to the displayed wares. Draco could only hope that if he ignored Potter long enough, he'd leave. Fortunately, over the years he'd had ample time to perfect the art of keeping his mouth shut and he had no intention of even being polite about it.

'Malfoy?'

Draco let his eyes skim over the contents of the shop window, vaguely noticing the aesthetic way in which the display had been structured.

'Are you really in the market for ladies lingerie?'

Bastard.

'You can ignore me all you like, I'm only trying to do the right thing here.'

_Aren't you always?_ Draco could hear the frustration in Potter's voice and something smug and warm lit deep inside him. Satisfaction. It had been a long time since he'd felt that emotion; he barely knew what it was these days. If it had been anyone other than Potter, Draco might have been grateful for the interference.

Potter walked away and Draco continued staring into the shop window. As Potter passed from his mirrored line of vision, it took all his remaining strength not to let his eyes follow or his mouth curl up in an unfamiliar smile.

….

However, he was sure of the exact moment he realised he coveted that love enough to do something about it. And do something about it he must, or his family would be relegated into obscurity.

It was the moment he realised he could.

Obscure Dark spells were not difficult to research if you knew what you were looking for. It took Draco a month of research in his father's library before he came across something appropriate. A spell to divert the public's attention and love from Potter to Draco.

A wizard never dared use these Dark spells for fear of being traced and prosecuted. The Golden Era had produced an aversion to even the mildest forms of Dark Magic. Draco, out of a sense of self-preservation, had refrained from performing anything that might raise suspicion within the ranks of the MLE, but the yearning he had for what Potter so effortlessly acquired outstripped the risk.

He barely skimmed over the warnings and myths about punishments and retribution.

….

Envy suffocatingly thick and strong coiled in the heat of his belly and a dizzying sort of obsession threatened to overwhelm him and suddenly it was sixth year all over again. His whole existence whittled down into succeeding in this one endeavour that would bring about his family's salvation. He couldn't afford to fail.

Not again.

He simply would not let that be an option.

A few quick words and it was done. He had no idea how the spell functioned, how it completed its task, only that it did. Very soon now, he would be the one in receipt of all the love and adulation that Potter had undeservedly enjoyed, while the man in question was relegated to something more fitting his place. Ignored. Ignored just like creeping ground cover on the forest floor, existing on the pale, filtered light, leaving Draco to grow and climb and shine in the sun.

…..

Several days later, Draco was still waiting for the change in his fortune. He was becoming increasingly troubled over the potency of the spell. There had been no clamouring on his doorstep by the newspapers for an interview, no marriage proposals received from vapid girls and no unexpected windfalls of luck, either. He was as much on the fringes as he'd always been and it made him wonder if he was losing his skill at casting spells.

Maybe the extent of the love that Potter accumulated from the populace exceeded the ability of even Dark magic to usurp.

Perhaps there was a delay in the transfer?

According to the latest gossip rag, which Draco subscribed to under sufferance to monitor Potter's movements, there were only indications that the Golden boy's popularity was growing. He was in the news everywhere! He _was_ the news. Attending a Ministry Ball here, opening a new children's wing at St. Mungo's there and the proud owner of a new racing broom somewhere else. Did they never have any other news to write?

_Doris Purkiss of 18 Acanthia Way, Little Norton, was taken into custody today after claiming that Harry Potter was the reincarnation of Stubby Boardman, lead singer of popular singing group The Hobgoblins. Stubby Boardman retired from public life after being struck on the ear by a turnip at a concert in Little Norton Church Hall many years ago and has not been seen since. According to sources, the claim predictably proved to be false._

_The official spokesman for Magical Law Enforcement, Randolph Kennerton, confirmed today that Ms. Purkiss had allegedly written several letters to Mr. Potter, demanding that he return to her and assist in raising their child._

_Mr. Potter insisted on being tested in order to set Ms. Purkiss' mind at rest and hospital staff waxed rhapsodically over how polite and charming he was about the inconvenience._

_Ms. Purkiss is being held at St. Mungo's while she undergoes psychiatric treatment. The child, Jordan, 17, has reunited with his father, Mr. Redmond Pollack, who had no idea he had a son._

_Mr. Potter requested that Ms. Purkiss not be charged and instead receive the treatment she so badly requires._

_Mr. Potter, you are definitely a hero and a gentleman.  
_

It made Draco grind his teeth in frustration. Any normal person would have ensured that the Purkiss woman was locked away, never to be released. A complete nutter. Why did Potter have to even be nice to the nut cases? He tossed the paper aside and stood, pacing the room in an attempt to calm down and think of what to do next.

'Draco, you will desist from wearing a hole in my carpet,' a firm voice interrupted his thoughts and Draco turned, startled at the sudden presence of his mother.

'Mother, good morning. I didn't see you there.' He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

'Probably because your thoughts were elsewhere.' A worried look stole across her face. 'As it has been for the past few days. Did something happen? Are you all right?'

'It can't be healthy for you to be worried about me all the time.'

'And it can't be healthy for you to deflect me all the time, either,' she said wryly.

He would have rolled his eyes if he could but he didn't want to upset her. As annoyingly fussy as she was being, she only had his well being at heart. 'I'm just waiting for something to come and it hasn't yet. The delay upsets me.'

'A package?'

'Of a sort.' Draco shrugged offhandedly. 'I'm beginning to wonder if I did it right,' he mumbled to himself, looking away from his mother's blue eyes. 'The order, I mean.'

'Well, couldn't you go and see for yourself?' his mother asked innocently. 'Make sure that everything's in order?'

A jolt of realisation hit him. Of course! Why didn't he go and I_see_/I if the spell had worked? After all, since Potter was the catalyst it would only make sense that he feel the effects before Draco himself did. Or before the newspapers printed any derogatory story about their Golden boy, either.

Draco smiled at her and nodded. 'Thank you, Mother. I think I'll do that.'

…..

Typically, there was a crowd around the Potter group as they ate ice creams at Fortescue's. The management of the ice creamery had put barriers around their outdoor eating area, which afforded some protection for the patrons, but in this case it appeared they would be totally inadequate. Even in the cold winter sunshine, people were lined up several rows thick around the eatery, craning their necks to get a better picture of Potter eating a chocolate ice cream sundae with Granger and the Weasel. Or two Weasels, rather; one of the female variety.

Draco wondered caustically how long the female Weasley would hang all over the Golden boy once he was no longer so popular. Not that Draco wanted ginger bits anywhere near himself, the further away the better, but it would show Potter just how unreliable the blood-traitor Weasleys were. Once Potter was out of the picture and not the press' darling anymore, Draco doubted that the social climbing redhead would find anything special about him. That thought gave him much pleasure. Potter would soon learn about fair-weathered friendships being a lot less important than good strong alliances and he would soon learn what it felt like to be rejected by a Malfoy; just as Potter had rejected him all those years ago.

The person next to him gave him a funny look, which made Draco realise he'd been grinding his teeth and making a funny growling noise.

Draco had to admit that the years had been good to Potter. Aside from the atrocious fashion sense and the still-untidy hair, he'd filled out and was no longer the scrawny runt he had been in school.

The female Weasley, the one Blaise had thought attractive back in school, was sitting so close to Potter that Draco was sure she could have been giving him a handjob under the table and no one would even be able to tell. It sickened Draco how Potter could actually stand ginger bits near him at all. The Mudblood and the other Weasley were making cow eyes at each other and had Draco not been already lowering himself to mix with the dreck, he might have thrown up.

Obviously, as much as he tried to deny it, Potter was definitely not experiencing the effects of the curse. The man in question was sitting eating his sundae and laughing at some inane comment from the girl Weasel.

It was pointless hanging around, he thought. If he had to stand here too much longer surrounded by people who'd probably not seen a bath in a months, then he might just forget where he was and _Scourgify_ the lot of them.

Giving them one final sneer, he turned away to fight his way back through the crowd and return home to clean, peace and quiet.

Just as he did so, there was a shout to his left. Turning towards the noise, he suddenly found himself being shoved hard in the back.

He tripped, crashing into the barricade and knocking it over. He lost his balance and stumbled over the fallen obstacle, staggering into the cleared space between it and Potter's group. He was desperate not to fall over and make a complete arse of himself in front of Potter of all people and, just as he thought he'd managed to right himself, something slammed into his back with all the force of a rogue bludger, only infinitely more painful.

The last thing he thought before passing out with the pain, was irritation at himself for falling in front of something, obviously a curse. Then everything went fiery red under his eyelids for an instant prior to fading and blinking out into inky blackness.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Not mine and I am making NO money from this.

* * *

Author's Notes:

Originally written for **aoifene**'s cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was **Envy.** Thanks to **aoifene**, **weasleywench** and **nocturnali** for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Thanks for all your reviews on the first chapter. Hopefully you'll enjoy this one, too. This story WILL have a happy ending, I promise.

jamie

xxxx

* * *

When Draco woke, he wasn't in much pain and, based on the softness under his back, he was in a bed. It was quiet, the silence only broken by some far off rumbling noise that he determined were voices. And apart from a dull throbbing in his head and aches in places he never knew could ache, he seemed to be in one piece.

A male voice seemed to detach from the rest and become louder, apparently arguing over something, if the tone was any indication. It also sounded like the owner was approaching his room.

As it neared, it became more familiar. Potter. Merlin, Draco hoped he was in hospital and not prey to whatever second-rate healing the do-gooder Potter could manage.

Draco opened his eyes. He only had time to register that, thankfully, he was in a hospital room before Potter opened the door and let in an unearthly racket.

Potter paused in entering the room and his voice, obviously still talking to the rabble, sounded cross. 'Mr Malfoy is resting. Give him time to recover and I'm sure he'll give you a statement when he's feeling better.'

'Well?' Bloody hell, Potter had better have some answers for him or there'd be hell to pay.

'Oh, good, you're awake.'

'Very perceptive, Potter.' Draco shifted and pushed himself up on his elbows. It didn't hurt, too much. 'Now, if you'd skip past the pleasantries and tell me what happened before you leave, I'd appreciate it.' Potter didn't deserve Draco's manners, but it was too well ingrained.

'You don't remember?'

Draco glared at him. 'Of course I remember being hit with some vile curse, you imbecile. What I don't know is what the bloody thing was or why.'

Potter, he was annoyed to see, didn't flinch at the insult. Rather he appeared to be amused. And looking at Draco as if they'd been friends for a lifetime instead of mortal enemies. All right, _mortal_ enemies might be an exaggeration, but enemies just the same.

'You jumped in front of a curse meant for me. A variation of the _Cruciatus._ It knocked you out for a while. We brought you here about an hour ago.'

Typical, Draco thought. Some cretin decided to hex the Golden boy, finally, and Draco had the unfortunate luck to have been shoved in its path. And some people, Potter in particular, had all the bloody good luck in the world. How was that fair? He dropped back and closed his eyes.

'That was a really brave thing to do, Draco, I always thought you hated me; why did you do it?'

Draco looked at Potter in disbelief. Did he honestly think that Draco had done it on purpose? Not for all the gold in Gringotts would Draco put himself in any sort of danger, and certainly not for Potter. He was stunned speechless at Potter's casual assumption… Draco amended his thoughts; Potter was used to people putting themselves in the line of fire for him.

'I _do _hate you, Potter,' he ground out.

'Then, why? You could have let that curse hit me. Instead you're a hero. I've been battling to keep the Press from getting in here and pestering you for a comment.'

'The Press?'

Now that was an interesting development. Perhaps he could take advantage of this situation and collect on some of the popularity Potter enjoyed so much of. Perhaps the spell _was _working.

'Yeah, there were a lot of people around when it happened. You created quite a stir. They all want to speak to the new hero.'

Potter spoke without resentment. As if he didn't care that Draco was going to steal some of his publicity. Draco was pleased. Potter was a push over.

'Well, I don't mind speaking to them, but if you could get me some clothes, I'd rather put on a dignified front than be photographed in a hospital gown.'

'Of course. I think a Healer should look at you first, though. Make sure that you're all right.'

'No, I'm fine, Potter.' The Press might give him up if he made them wait too long. Carefully, he sat up and dropped his legs over the side of the bed.

Potter sighed and handed him his clothes. 'Fine, but I'll send one in to check on you after you've spoken to the Press.'

Draco allowed himself an internal smirk. Potter was already bending over backwards, _bending rules_ to accommodate Draco's needs. He wondered what else he could get the man to do. Plenty, he suspected. Draco had just saved Potter's life, after all. Theoretically.

'Well, get out!' Draco snapped, wanting to dress in private. Potter merely shook his head and informed him that he'd go be back in five minutes with the Press.

….

Dealing with a room full of reporters and photographers was easier than Draco thought it would be seeing as it was all a huge accident. All he had to do was look frail and wince every time he moved to gain their sympathy. It only took him to show modesty and humility for them to be eating out of his hand.

'Mr. Malfoy, how does it feel to be a hero?'

'Who, me?' Draco pretended shock. 'I'm no hero. I just happened to be in the right place at the right time.'

'No one else jumped in front of the curse. Just you. How can you explain that?'

Draco frowned as if thinking. 'Perhaps their reflexes weren't as good as mine. It did happen very quickly.'

'Can you tell us in your own words what happened?'

'It all happened so fast.' Draco really had no idea what had happened at all but he appeared to think about it. 'One minute I was among the crowd, making my way to _Fortescue's_ for ice cream and the next I heard a noise. Without even thinking about it, I found myself over the barrier.' _And that wasn't even a lie_, Draco thought, greatly amused.

'It was an extremely brave thing to do, Mr. Malfoy,' one female reporter said, simpering. 'Can you tell my readers why you did it?'

_No. Absolutely no fucking idea, darling,_ Draco thought, _and if I'd had a choice about it, I'd have never done it._ Instead, Draco smiled awkwardly and dropped his eyes. 'There was no way I could stand by and watch the Golden boy hurt by some disaffected wizard,' he said softly.

He risked a glance at Potter, who'd been sitting quietly in the corner the whole time, half expecting to see Potter angry and on the verge of disputing his version of the story. Strangely, Potter didn't look like that at all. Instead he had awed gratitude on his face. It was enough to make Draco blink several times in shock.

After several more questions, which Draco answered modestly, just making the reporters want to call him a hero even more, Draco claimed tiredness and had Potter remove them from his room.

He was actually tired and ached terribly. He had Potter hunt down a Healer and get him some more potion for the pain. Once he'd been examined by the Healer and told he'd need to stay overnight, he settled down for a nap.

'You going to sit there and watch me sleep, then?' Draco looked at Potter seated in the corner and smirked.

'I have to. They still haven't caught whoever aimed that curse at me and they think that whoever it was might now be after you for interfering.'

Draco frowned. Actual danger was unexpected. 'Fine, then. You can stay.'

'I was going to.'

'Good. Now shut up and let me sleep.'

'Prat.' He sounded fond, which annoyed Draco. Potter had no right to familiarity.

'I'm the bloody prat who took a curse for you, Potter, so kindly shut up.'

….

The next time he woke it was to voices outside his door.

'He probably set it up, Harry; why can't you see that?' The girl Weasel. Obviously not everyone thought he was a hero, then.

'Don't be ridiculous, Gin; why would he risk dying just to set up something like that?'

'He was in no danger of dying!'

'The Healer said that he was very close to it. They said he was lucky I got him here as quickly as I did.'

'I still say he set it up to get on your good side.'

'I don't understand why you're doing this. He didn't need to be on my good side; we've had no animosity towards each other since school. We've grown up. Why can't you?'

'Fine, well being grateful to him for it is one thing, but you don't have to run around after him like a house-elf.'

'I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Draco possibly saved my life and whatever I can do to say thank you, I'm going to do it.'

'You saved my life back in school and you didn't see me falling all over myself and acting like a house-elf.'

'Oh, so the Valentine's singing cupid you sent me was actually from someone else?'

Potter sounded amused. Not that Draco really noticed the amusement other than in an abstract way; he was way more concerned with the fact that he'd almost _died!_ It was enough to send his imagination reeling and his stomach plummeting in dread. If they hadn't caught the assailant, then he was still in danger and he could _still_ die! What happened to Potter hanging around to protect him? Where was the gratitude?

The girl Weasel's laughter and Potter's voice faded. Draco swung his legs over the side of the bed, intent on chasing after Potter and demanding his presence so that he could throw his body in front of a curse this time!

Then, through the opaque glass, he saw the unmistakeable lump of the other Weasel standing guard outside his door. He slumped onto the bed. Demanding Potter's presence in addition to a guard might look melodramatic. And he knew he'd have to play this very carefully if he were to take full advantage of this situation.

…

He was greatly pleased when his meal was delivered with a selection of newspapers for him to read the next time he woke. His story of heroic bravery covered the front of all of them. Some enterprising sod had captured the last few seconds of the incident. Draco grimaced as he watched the spell slam into his back and knock him to the ground. It hadn't looked like he'd stumbled from a push. And the fact that he'd tripped over the barricade would hide that.

'Draco, you idiot, what have you been up to now?' came a familiar voice from the doorway.

He looked up and smiled. Pansy glared at his door-guard – no longer a Weasley – and strode in as if she were a Healer.

'Pansy! What are you doing here?' Draco was delighted to see her.

'Well, I couldn't let you go through this traumatic experience all by yourself, could I?' She smirked and threw a _Muffliato_ spell around them before plonking herself on the only chair in the room. 'Right, now dish. You can't tell me that you threw yourself in front of a curse for anyone, let alone Potter. So what happened?'

'Apparently, I jumped in front of a curse meant for Potter,' Draco teased. At Pansy's narrowed eyes he relented and told her about everything, including the spell.

They'd known each other virtually since birth. She was the only person who knew that he still slept with a stuffed toy, a fact she'd found out by accident one night during the war when her family had stayed at the Manor after one of Voldemort's 'parties'.

The small toy gave him comfort, and was a symbol of his forgotten innocence. During Voldemort's occupancy of his family home, he'd clung to the shaggy thing. Pansy had laughed at him when she'd seen Draco snuggled up with his stuffed lion in his arms, but then had sobered and said, 'I hope he saves us, too.'

Draco'd had no idea what she'd been talking about, but Pansy never joked about the toy after that. She'd been the one who'd made sure he had strong wards disguising it when they went back to Hogwarts.

'So, you could pretty much get Potter to do whatever you wanted right now.' A calculating grin cut across her face. It suited her.

'I could, but then that would be abusing his gratitude, and that wouldn't be right,' Draco smirked.

'That would never do,' she agreed. 'However, he does owe you his life…'

'That's true enough.'

'What you need,' Pansy said, 'is a way to capitalise on both Potter's gratitude and the positive publicity you've received.'

'I agree. What did you have in mind?'

'The anniversary of the end of the war is in four months. You'd be cutting it fine for planning and such, but how about hosting the charity ball of the season before then? Find some deserving charity – or set up your own – and use the ball to raise money. Potter owes you so he'd attend. Once you have him, you have the rest of the who's who all clamouring to buy tickets as well.'

'I like the way your mind works, lovely.' Draco smiled. It was perfect. 'We'd set the prices ridiculously high to keep out the riff-raff, of course. We'd have only the best of everything.'

'Darling, if you donated the cost of setting up the Ball, it would mean even more money to the right charity.'

'And just to ensure success, we'll make it a charity of Potter's choosing,' Draco said, beginning to get enthused about all the planning and organising.

'Excellent idea. Your mother will be extremely glad to be entertaining again.'

Draco nodded. 'I know she misses it. All the glamour and pomp. But it was hardly worth organising anything after the war. No one would have attended.' Seeing his mother happy once more would please Draco. He hated how her lively personality had become more withdrawn and isolated in the years since the war. She would welcome this opportunity with open arms.

'And you'll finally have the attention you want,' Pansy finished.

He gave his co-conspirator another grin and they set to work discussing ideas until she was shooed out of the room by a Healer an hour later.

….

'Take me home, Potter.' Draco was sitting on the edge of his bed the next day, ready to leave, but he was damned if he was leaving without Potter as an escort. Potter was the one who owed him the life debt. Draco intended to claim on it. Several times if he could get away with it.

Potter being Potter rolled his eyes, but Draco caught the amusement in them. 'Isn't your mother going to come and collect you?'

'I don't need my mother here,' Draco snapped. 'She doesn't leave the Manor much these days. Prefers not to be spat on by people that aren't even worthy of cleaning her shoes.'

'She might find that things have changed slightly.'

Draco narrowed his eyes at Potter. 'What do you mean?'

'I mean that apparently the name Malfoy isn't one to be spat at any longer. If you'd seen this morning's newspaper, you'd know that.'

Finally, he thought. 'Be that as it may, Potter, my mother is hardly likely to be reading those gossip rags. Besides, someone out there wants to hurt you and, due to my spur-of-the-moment decision to save your scrawny arse, I am in danger as well. I think it only appropriate that you ensure my safety,' Draco said haughtily.

'I wouldn't trust you to anyone else.' Potter gave Draco a stupid grin.

Raising an eyebrow, Draco responded, 'Does that mean you'll be plastered to my side until this person is caught?' _Not a very pleasant prospect._ He'd rather be the only one in the spotlight. If Potter were to be there beside him all the time, then it would be merely reflected glory that Draco received.

'Hardly.' Potter shook his head. 'I do have a job to do. Security will be provided for you, of course, but you only need to tell me you need me and I'll be there. Least I could do.'

'The least, indeed.' No point in letting Potter feel he didn't have an obligation. 'As long as they don't curtail my activities, then that should be acceptable.' And Draco would find many times in these coming months that he would _need_ Potter for something.

'All right, princess, you ready to go?'

Draco clenched his jaw. Perhaps this was a bad idea and he should insist on Potter staying away from him. If Potter continued to call him something as blatantly ridiculous as 'princess', then he couldn't be held responsible for a stray hex or two. In fact…no, best not. How much more satisfying it would be to hex Potter publicly _and get away with it_. Draco went hard in an instant.

'Are the Press still making a nuisance of themselves?' he asked, while he conjured unsexy thoughts of ginger bits and Mudbloods copulating, making him shudder.

'I can have them removed if you want,' Potter said, obviously mistaking his shudder as distaste for the press. Nothing could be further from the truth.

'No,' he hurriedly assured Potter. 'It might be nice to receive some positive publicity for a change. I could do with appearing in public without protecting myself with Spit-Repelling Charms.'

'I wish they wouldn't continue to do that,' Potter said.

Draco stood and collected several bunches of the flowers that well-wishers had sent him. It would be advantageous to be seen leaving the hospital looking like he cared that people had thought of him.

'Why don't you tell them to stop, then? You're the darling of the wizarding world. They listen to you.'

'I rather think you've done that effectively yourself.' Potter grinned. 'You're the press' darling now.'

Why was Potter so pleased about that, Draco wondered. 'Come,' he ordered, and left the room to face the throng of people who were going to make his life wonderful and rich with attention. Just like he deserved.

Potter of course, followed him like the good little doggy he was.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Not Mine

* * *

Author's Notes:

Originally written for **aoifene**'s cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was **Envy.** Thanks to **aoifene**, **weasleywench** and **nocturnali** for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Thanks for all the lovely reviews, I appreciate you letting me know what you think. This story is a bit of a departure for me - Draco is a lot more calculating than I normally write him and less nice to Harry, BUT as we all know things will change and I will write a happy ending. Promise.

Enjoy.

jamie

xxxx

* * *

By the time they arrived at the Manor, Draco was buoyed up by the adoration of the press. The change in tide brought a smile to Draco's face; one large enough to chase his unfortunate aches from his thoughts.

The sight of his mother waiting for him gave him pause. In the tumultuous events of the last two days, he'd been remiss in ensuring that his mother had been regularly kept up to date about his condition.

'Draco, you're home.' She took him in her arms. 'I was so worried about you. I could not bear to lose you.' Her voice carried a soft rebuke, but the overriding emotion was one of utter relief.

He allowed himself be held, inhaling her soft perfume, letting it remind him that she was fragility lined with an inner core of strength that had kept them both alive during Voldemort's occupation of their house. 'I'm sorry for worrying you, Mother. There were just so many things happening.' He knew that was no excuse, though.

'Pansy kept me up to date on how you were doing.' She drew back enough to look up into his eyes, and smiled at him. 'What on earth made you do something as dangerous as that?'

'It was really over before I knew it,' Draco replied. Which wasn't a lie. He hoped that his mother's legendary ability to spot one of his lies or omissions a mile away would refrain from making an appearance this time.

She gave him a searching look and then nodded. 'Well, I am very proud of you, but you need to be careful; you're all I have left.'

He would give anything to prevent her worrying about him. Her life had been curtailed enough. 'Trust me,' he whispered. 'I'm going to be very careful.'

A soft cough from behind startled him and he swung his head around sharply. In all the elation, he'd completely forgotten Potter had tagged along. He scowled as he realised Potter would have seen his touching reunion with his mother. He was about to say something, when Potter spoke instead.

'He'll be protected around the clock, Mrs Malfoy. I'll make sure of that.'

Draco was torn between wanting to strangle Potter for interrupting, and comforting his mother. She had pulled back entirely, with a question looming large in her eyes. He gently took her arm. 'Come, Mother, we'll go and sit in the lounge.'

'Don't try and distract me, Draco.' She extracted herself from his hold and gripped his forearms tightly. 'You'll tell me what's going on right now.'

'Mother–'

'Perhaps I can answer that,' Potter said.

Narcissa turned towards Potter, leaving Draco's arms free, although the press of her fingers into his flesh had left impressions. She seemed to gather herself.

'Mr Potter, forgive my rudeness, I have not welcomed you to the Manor appropriately. Please allow me to offer my apologies.'

Draco snorted. 'Mother, he's not a guest here; you don't need to stand on ceremony. He is the–' Draco paused.

'Nonsense. There is never any excuse for bad manners, Draco, and you would do well to remember that.' She held out her hand to Potter. 'Welcome, Mr Potter.'

Potter took the proffered hand and gave a slight bow as he shook it. 'Thank you. It's a pleasure to be here.'

Draco wondered how Potter could say that with a straight face. The last time Potter had been in Malfoy Manor, he'd been thrown in the dungeon and Draco's Aunt Bella had tortured the Mudblood.

'Please, come through to the lounge, and you may tell me exactly what has happened that my son requires protection.'

Draco reluctantly took his mother's arm once more and led the way to the lounge. He sat her down in her favourite chair and stood stiffly beside her.

'Please sit, Mister Potter,' she said graciously. Potter glanced at Draco and sat opposite her. 'Would you like a drink?'

'Mother, Potter does not require a drink,' Draco said. He earned himself a frown from his mother.

'No, nothing thanks. This won't take a moment, and then I'll leave you alone.'

'Very well.'

Potter smiled at Narcissa. 'I assume you're aware that Draco stepped in front of a spell that was meant for me,' he started.

'I was. Pansy informed me of my son's…bravery.'

One of Potter's hands slipped through his hair. 'It was a very brave thing to do and I'm extremely grateful. Unfortunately, the person who cast the curse is still at large, and we think there's a chance Draco might be in danger because he prevented the attack from being successful.'

To his mother's credit, she did not show any further outward displays of anxiety; however, Draco knew her and saw the faint clenching of her jaw. Then she asked the question that, had Draco been thinking straight, he would have asked much earlier.

'Do you have any idea why this person would want to curse you?'

'Not at this stage, but we aren't sure that he wanted to kill me as, obviously, Draco survived.' Draco saw his mother flinch. 'Which makes his gesture even more remarkable. He had no idea what the spell was; it could have been one that killed him outright.'

Draco grimaced, wondering just how close he'd come to dying. Potter continued.

'It could be a disgruntled ex-Death Eater. I know things haven't been ideal for you since…since the war.'

A look passed between Draco and his mother.

'And what sort of protection are you offering my son?'

'There will be an Auror stationed here who will accompany Draco whenever he leaves the Manor, and I've told him that I will be on call if he needs me at any time. It's the least I can do.'

'I see.'

'Mother.' Draco reached for her hand. 'I will be safe. Please, I don't want you to worry about me. Potter has promised that he will not let anything happen to me.'

His mother shot Draco a look and lowered her voice. 'But will Mr Potter jump in front of a curse for the likes of us?'

'Yes, of course I would.'

Draco felt the tension in his mother's hand relax a little, and noticed that she looked at Potter as if she'd just found a new friend. Draco mentally groaned.

'I'm sure there will be no need for that,' he said, wishing Potter would just leave.

Instead, Potter just smiled ridiculously. 'Isn't that what friends do?'

'We're hardly friends, Potter.'

'But we could be. I've often wondered about you since the war, and when I saw you the other week, I wished we could've gone for a drink or something. It's about time we all move on from our school days.'

'I couldn't agree more, Mr Potter.' His mother smiled warmly. _Damn it, Potter has even charmed Mother._

He sat down reluctantly and wondered how best to use this to his advantage. 'I suppose that saving your life does make us something other than enemies,' he admitted, forcing a pleasant tone.

'Good,' Potter replied, flashing Draco that smile he'd seen blazoned across so many newspapers. Draco smiled in return and decided that a smile had a lot going for it, so he should practice getting it just right for his own publicity.

Potter stood and approached Narcissa. 'Well, it was a pleasure to meet you under much more amicable circumstances than when we last met,' he said. 'No, don't stand, I can see myself out.' He turned to Draco. 'Draco, once again, thank you, and if you ever need anything, just Floo. I've added you to my network.'

Draco winced inwardly at hearing his name coming from Potter's mouth but he knew he'd have to get used to it. He nodded and called the house-elf to show Potter out.

After Potter left, Draco settled back in his chair, able to relax for the first time since the 'incident'. He barely paid attention to his mother, now taking the opportunity to berate him for doing something so dangerous, but being philosophical about just whom he'd put his life in danger for.

'Does it seem strange to you, Draco, that our lives and Mr Potter's seem to be intertwined to such a degree?' she asked.

Draco looked at his mother. 'How do you mean?'

'It can't have escaped your notice that someone from this family has saved his life on several occasions, nor that he has saved yours more than once.'

'I have to say that I rarely think about Potter,' Draco lied. He ignored her raised eyebrow and changed the subject. 'Mother, how would you like to be reintroduced to society?' he asked. 'To once more host a function attended by the who's who of wizarding society? You would be in your element.'

'What are you talking about?'

He could see the thinly-veiled hope in her eyes; she missed it and, in truth, she was a natural at it: her elegance and beauty had made her a sought-after guest at many a function. Before the war.

Just as he was about to speak, the house-elf announced Pansy.

'Draco, darling,' Pansy exclaimed, walking directly to him and kissing him on the cheek before turning to Narcissa and smiling. 'Narcissa, lovely to see you. How are you?'

'Pansy, dear, what a lovely surprise.'

'What are you doing here?' Draco asked, not displeased to see her.

'I've come to sort out your public engagements for the …foreseeable future.' She grinned and sat down.

'I have public engagements?' A smile worked its way onto his face.

Pansy nodded. 'Everybody is clamouring to have you attend their functions. Seeing as you're a hero now.'

'But how…?'

'I just casually let it drop that I was going to be the one to handle all your engagements from now on, and they've been pouring in. You could do anything from attending this year's Wizard of the Year gala, to making a keynote speech at the AV dinner.'

Draco's mouth dropped open. To be asked to speak at the dinner held on the anniversary of the defeat of Voldemort, was an honour previously only bestowed upon those from the Order of the Phoenix.

Pansy continued, 'You could also agree to escort several young girls to their first ball. Or boys.' She smirked. 'Which I think you'd enjoy more.'

'Pansy!' Draco exclaimed.

'Well, it's true,' she said, waving him off.

His mother just looked on in amusement. It was no secret among his family and close friends, well, Pansy and Blaise anyway, that Draco preferred male company, but it was not common knowledge outside this group. No reason it should be; he'd tried to keep it as quiet as possible in order to avoid further risk in the current climate.

'You have several offers of marriage and–'

'What?'

Pansy laughed. 'I know. Fickle public. One minute they're spitting on you or hexing you to within an inch of your life and the next they want to embrace you into the bosom of their family.'

Draco snorted. 'I suspect they're probably after the money. I think you can politely refuse all offers of marriage.'

'Imagine the publicity, Draco,' she teased. Even his mother joined in.

'And one day, grandchildren.'

He looked at her in horror. 'No way in hell, Mother, so you can clear that little item off your agenda. I'm quite happy being single, thank you very much. Besides, I'd have to marry a woman for that, and–' He shuddered.

Pansy whacked his arm playfully. 'No need to be so disgusted by women. You are in the company of two, you know.'

'Ouch! Hero here.' He rubbed his arm. 'I am still in some pain I'll have you know.'

'I can have Pippy get you something,' his mother said.

'No, I'm all right. Can we change the subject now, though? Pans, make amends by telling mother about the Ball we're planning.'

Pansy did just that, and Draco smiled as he watched some life and excitement come back into this mother's eyes. He was glad that things were not only going to change for himself, but for her, too.

There was nothing he wanted more than for her to be as happy and as lively as she had been while he was growing up.

….

The next several days swept past in a whirlwind of colours and people, most of whom were strangers. Draco barely had time to wonder at the differences in his life. After several more interviews with newspapers and _Witch Weekly_, which predicted he would be the front runner in their Most Charming Smile award, Draco realised once more the power of a killer smile and practised it at every opportunity.

Some days, by the time he arrived home, his face ached. Still, he thought it a small price to pay for rapidly becoming the wizarding world's favourite son.

It helped that Potter cheerfully stepped out of the limelight, or was shoved aside in the public's rush to speak with Draco. In fact, it seemed to Draco that it was generally only the sober, conservative news that continued reporting Potter's activities. Even those would soon prefer to write about him.

The fifth of June was chosen as the date for the ball, deliberately selected because it was his birthday. It was after the AV dinner, rather than before. As there seemed to be no let up in the number of people who wanted Draco to appear at functions, he supposed that he'd be able to maintain the momentum of his popularity until after the anniversary celebrations. The later date gave them more time to prepare. They had just shy of five months.

'You do realise that's your birthday, don't you?' Pansy asked.

'Of course,' Draco replied, grinning as he poured Pansy a drink and handed it to her.

He was astounded by his own intelligence at times. Brilliant, he was.

Pansy curled up on the couch with her drink after setting aside the sheaf of papers she'd been jotting notes on. 'And this is a good thing, why?'

'Because, Pansy, my dear, we'll announce it as a birthday bash to end all bashes, with not only the proceeds from the ticket sales and the evening going to charity, but also ask that anyone inclined to give presents should make a charitable donation instead.'

Pansy laughed. 'I never thought I'd see the day when Draco Malfoy gave up presents on his birthday. Diabolical, Draco.'

'I have my moments.' He smirked into his drink.

'They'll eat it up.'

'That's the idea. I can afford to forgo what would probably end up being mountains of useless gifts for one year. Besides, there will still be those who insist on making sure the birthday boy has some reward for his generosity.'

It was really more for practical reasons that Draco had suggested it. From the mountains of letters he received each day, Draco could see that when his birthday rolled around, he'd be inundated with trite, pointless, _cheap_ gifts that he had no use for. He'd end up throwing them away.

He could earn more publicity by donating them to some charity, but he knew that sometimes people felt insulted if you gave away a gift they had chosen for you. He'd learned that in school when presented with a hand-drawn picture of himself exiting the bathroom clad only in a towel by an infatuated Theo Nott. Draco had thanked him nicely, as it was a rather lovely picture, and then had promptly given it to Blaise, whom he'd been trying to coerce for months away from girls and into his bed. Blaise had eventually succumbed of course, but Theo had become rather aggressive after that, and Draco had been forced to resort to several Stinging Hexes to make him desist.

'All we need now is a deserving charity,' Pansy said. 'Have you spoken to Potter yet?'

'Not yet; he's been rather absent the last few days. Something that I need to rectify as soon as possible. Potter's the one who put me in danger; he's the one who should shoulder the majority of the burden of protecting me.' Draco frowned.

'To be fair, he's in as much danger as you, Draco, and maybe he's making himself a smaller target by staying out of the way.'

Draco shook his head. 'Well, he doesn't get to do that. This is his fault; where does he get off being a coward?' Draco stood and stormed to the fireplace and made a Floo-call to Potter.

'Potter!' he called, interrupting Potter and the girl Weasel in mid-snog.

Potter pulled away from ginger bits and turned his shocked gaze to Draco. 'Draco? What do you want?'

Draco ignored the furious look on the ginger bits' face and looked at Potter instead. 'I need you to come to the Manor.'

'Now?' Potter asked, alternating looks between Draco and ginger bits.

'Yes, now, Potter, or I would have sent an owl inviting you for tea tomorrow afternoon.'

'Of course' I'll be there in a moment.' Potter gave Draco a smile and then turned back to ginger bits, who was about to let fly with some invective or other. Draco really didn't want to hang around to see that, but as he was pulling away from the fire, he distinctly heard ginger bits tell Potter that if he went then he'd be sleeping on the couch tonight. Ha! Served Potter right. Draco didn't care. It was about time Potter started fulfilling his duty properly instead of passing it off onto someone else.

When he pulled away, he turned back to Pansy and snickered. 'I think Potter is in the dog house with the girl weasel.'

'Something else he'll have you to be thankful for,' Pansy said, grinning.

He hadn't thought of that, but Pansy was right.

'Maybe if you play your cards right,' she continued, 'you could get him on his knees in front of you, sucking your–'

'Don't even go there; you'll give me nightmares for a month.'

'You'd love it, Draco. For as long as you've known Potter, you've wanted to get one up on him. What better way than to have him on his knees?'

Once he overcame his shock at the suggestion, Draco had to agree that her idea had its merits. He could see it now, the Chosen One on his knees, servicing an ex-Death Eater. How the mighty would have fallen.

Draco laughed just as his mother walked into the room.

'Is this a private joke or can anyone join in?' she asked, smiling at both of them.

'Nothing important, Mother,' Draco responded, giving his mother a warm smile. 'We're just waiting for Potter to arrive so we can choose a charity to be the recipient of the proceeds from the ball.'

'I see. Have you settled on a date yet?'

Draco nodded and advised her of the date; then explained how it would work to their advantage. By the time they'd finished discussing that, Pippy was showing Potter in.

'Glad you could join us, Potter,' Draco said, deliberately raking his eyes up and down Potter's body.

He didn't miss the slight falter in Potter's step and smirked a little. Having Potter on his knees might not be such an ordeal after all.

'Narcissa, Pansy,' Potter greeted the ladies easily, then turned to Draco. 'I said I'd come when you needed me, so what do you need?' Potter smiled and his eyes flashed amusement. Not so easy to embarrass, then, Draco acknowledged.

'We're planning a big charity ball for my birthday in June, and we thought you might like to choose the recipient of the proceeds,' Draco explained.

Potter raised his eyebrows. 'You're hosting a charity ball?'

Draco frowned. 'I think that's what I said, Potter, or are you deaf?'

'No, I heard you,' Potter replied, grinning. 'Just never thought you'd be one to do anything for charity.'

'Conditions have hardly been conducive towards me doing anything in the public eye the last few years, have they?' Draco sneered. Bloody self-righteous git. He really had no idea how they'd had to survive, had he?

Potter held his hands up in apology. 'I'm sorry; I had no right to say that.'

'The Malfoy name was always associated with several major charities. Since the end of the war, we have had great difficulty getting them to accept our donations. They're of the opinion that we are trying to curry favour, or want something in return,' Draco's mother said.

Silence hung around them for several moments before Potter sighed. 'I really hate the way you've been treated and I'm sorry. I'll help out however I can.'

'Just tell us what charity you'd like the money to go to and we're done,' Draco snapped.

'Draco–'

'Haven't I told you never to call me that? Merlin, you really are that thick, aren't you? You wander around with your bloody groupies, totally ignorant of what the fuck goes on and then you have the gall to come in here and–'

'Draco!' his mother cried out. 'That is enough! Mister Potter is not responsible for the behaviour of everyone. Besides, things are changing now. We can shop unmolested.'

Draco sighed, subsiding. 'Just don't think you know me, Potter; you have no idea who I am.'

'I could say the same about you, Malfoy, but how about we try to get along? If I'm going to be spending time with you, then we should at least make the effort, don't you think?'

Potter was right, and Draco knew it. He glanced at Pansy, who was trying desperately to withhold the sharp bark of laughter that was her trademark. She mouthed 'on his knees.' The corners of Draco's mouth twitched upwards and he shook his head, letting the smile come.

'Fine, I'll play nice,' he said, glancing at Potter again. 'You can accompany me to this book launch of Lovegood's this evening. In the interests of getting to know each other, of course.'

Lovegood had written a fantasy novel, which, unsurprisingly, included several of the rather odd creatures she'd spouted off about during their Hogwarts days. Draco had not planned on attending, having never had much time for the crazy witch, but in the interests of friendship… Of course.

Potter baulked. 'I can't; I'm already taking Ginny. It's been arranged.'

_A bonus! Tension between Potter and the ginger bits!  
_

Draco sighed. 'Well, it's a bit late for me to organise another escort now.'

Pansy piped up helpfully, flashing Draco a smirk in the process, 'Who's the guard on tonight? You could take him.'

'Buckham?' Draco laughed. 'No, I don't think so. I can't be seen being escorted by the help, Pansy.' He sighed again. 'I suppose I'll just have to let Lovegood know that I am unable to attend.'

'What about Pansy?' Potter asked. 'You could take her.'

Pansy stifled another giggle, and Draco sent her a glare. 'No, Potter, I could not be escorted by Pansy: her husband would have something to say about that.'

'But if you just go as friends…'

'Merlin, Pans, he really is dense, isn't he?' Draco shook his head.

'He's a Gryffindor, darling; you must take that into account. I suspect that in that house full of big, brave, noble heroes with all that excess testosterone floating around, if any one of them hinted at preferring co– boys, they'd have been thrown out.' Draco was thankful Pansy altered her language; he didn't think his mother would appreciate the original word she'd been about to use.

'You're…'

'Gay, yes, Potter. Hence looking for a male escort to this function.'

'But I'm not. How–?'

'Because you're Harry Potter, and I saved your life: I think you can do me this one favour,' Draco insisted.

Potter frowned stiffly but after several moments his shoulders sagged. 'Ginny will kill me,' he said, then glared at Draco. 'No…' Potter waved his arms around, '…gay stuff.'

A bark of laughter escaped Draco. 'No…_gay stuff_… as you so eloquently put it. I am merely after an escort for the night, not a date, Potter.'

'Still don't see why you couldn't take your mother,' Potter grumbled.

'I'll expect you here at eight, dressed in full dress robes.'

'Fine,' Potter said. 'Now what was this about a charity?'

'We'd like you to choose who is to receive the proceeds from the Ball,' Pansy said. 'Your name associated with the ball and the charity will help raise money.'

Potter nodded his ready acceptance. 'There's an orphanage still operating south of London. They could use the money. I had planned on running some sort of auction for them, but the ball will be good; I'm sure they'll appreciate it.'

'Is that St. Hilda's?' Narcissa asked. Potter nodded. 'Good, I know the one. The Head there used to be a friend of my family. Perhaps we can become reacquainted.'

'If that's all?' Potter asked, still looking disgruntled.

Draco really felt like tormenting him some more but told himself to be patient. There would be plenty of time.

'No, that's it. I'll see you back here at eight.'

By the time Potter left, Pansy and his mother were chatting away amicably, adding a number of things to the ball to do list.

~tbc~


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

* * *

**Notes:** Originally written for **aoifene**'s cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was **Envy.** Thanks to **aoifene**, **weasleywench** and **nocturnali** for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Enjoy! Thanks so much for the reviews, it really makes a difference knowing if you like it. :)

jamie

xxxx

* * *

'We could've let the guard have the night off, Draco. Seeing as I'm here with you, I could do both.'

'On the contrary, Potter: you are my escort for tonight and have escort duties. You cannot possibly be protecting me at the same time. No matter who you are and how much they exalt you for being their hero, even _you_ are mortal.' Draco pasted a smile on his face for the reporters awaiting the arrival of the guests for Lovegood's book release, and saw from the corner of his eye that Potter did the same.

They stood in front of the cameras for a few moments, trying not to blink at the flashes, Draco close to Potter, looking as if they dated regularly. In actuality, Draco had been surprised how well they worked together; Potter obviously had experience attending these things and he seemed in a much lighter mood than earlier in the day.

'I don't think anyone will try anything here, Draco.'

'I bet you didn't think anyone would try something in front of Fortescue's with witnesses, either.'

'Whatever. Anyway, your safety is my priority.'

'Thank you, Potter.' Draco turned and gave Potter a brilliant smile that he just knew the photographers would like and held it while the cameras flashed. 'I hope the gi– I hope there wasn't too much trouble with Ms Weasley.'

Potter shrugged and returned Draco's smile. 'She'll be all right. I might have to sleep on the couch for a week, though, so you should be thankful I'm here.'

Draco laughed and pressed closer to Potter's side. 'No sex for a week? If you'd walked out on a date with me, you'd be sleeping in the servant's quarters for the foreseeable future.'

Potter grinned in return. 'And this is why I don't date you. Or men. Ginny's sweet.'

_And easy,_ Draco thought, congratulating the ginger bits. He bet she knew that to keep Potter, she'd have to spread her legs as often as she could, or else Potter would soon grow bored of her inanity. But to demand no punishment would render her no threat and require no work on Potter's part, which would also lead to him becoming bored and wandering. No, Potter needed someone who challenged him. For now the ginger bits did, because her weapon was what was between her legs. Once Potter lost his celebrity, then Draco was sure that the legs would close for longer than a week.

Perhaps he should pursue Potter as Pansy had suggested. It would certainly make his own situation more secure, and Draco knew Potter protected those close to him with everything he had. And in an attack, they would go for Potter first.

It was certainly something to consider. Besides, regular sex had a lot going for it. Potter wasn't ugly and could always be discarded when the attacker was apprehended. He would have to think about it, but sex would be another way in which Potter could show his gratitude to Draco for saving his life.

'Be that as it may, Potter, you may take me inside now, and we can pay our respects to that wretched author.'

Of course,' Potter replied, holding out his arm. Draco smiled graciously and took it, letting Potter lead him into the reception.

….

'Potter not on duty today?' Pansy asked as she entered Draco's bedroom.

'Hello to you, too,' Draco responded dryly. 'No, he's working today. Pity.'

Pansy flopped onto his bed and watched as Draco pulled on a pair of black trousers. 'I think you're letting him off the hook too easily,' she said, sitting up and handing Draco his shirt.

'How do you mean?'

'It's been almost a week since you made him accompany you anywhere. What happened to the seduction plans?'

Draco gaped at her. 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

'You can't hide anything from me, Draco, darling. I know you too well.'

Scowling, Draco finished buttoning his shirt. 'Cow,' he mumbled. She ignored it.

'Has he proved to be too straight, then?'

'No one's too straight, Pansy,' he retorted, narrowing his eyes.

'But you've given up?'

Draco snorted. 'I wasn't aware that I'd started.'

'Draco,' she said, standing and reaching to thread a tie under his shirt collar. 'From the moment you eyed him from top to toe like he was a tasty morsel to be devoured, there was never any doubt.'

He remained still while she knotted his tie, looking at her smirk. The light of mischief in her eyes was an attempt to goad Draco.

'You're probably right; though I'm not sure I could stand to have him around constantly. And you do realise I'd have to have sex with a man I can't stand?'

Pansy cleared her throat. 'I'm sure you'll manage.' Her eyes darkened. 'I do.'

Draco immediately regretted mentioning it and curled his arms around her waist. 'If I could have, I would have married you; you know that.'

She gave him a half smile and a nodded. 'I know, and I love you for it; but it wasn't meant to be, was it?'

'Your parents could have waited a little, instead of marrying you off to the first slug with enough money.'

'You know I would have made them, but we had no idea if you'd be cleared or be spending time in Azkaban.'

Draco sighed. 'If it ever gets too much for you, you can always leave. I'll look after you. Always.' He pressed a kiss to her temple. 'I love you, Pansy; I don't want to see you unhappy.'

She wrapped her arms around Draco's neck and smiled. 'As long as I can live vicariously through you, I will be happy.'

'So, Potter?'

'Use him up and toss him aside,' she said. 'Have the good guys lose one for a change.'

Draco knew that her motivation was in part for revenge at being cast as villains because they'd ended up on the wrong side of the war, but as he'd already examined his own motivations and decided it would be most beneficial for him to have Potter in his bed as well as at his side, he wasn't disposed to analyse hers.

….

Draco continued to be busy over the next week. He insisted that Potter act as his guard when he was out of the house. It had the double benefit of making Potter the bigger target when Draco was in public and vulnerable, and it accustomed people to see them together. And seeing as there were no new leads into who had attacked Potter, Draco felt justified in demanding his presence when in public.

'Is that good news or bad, Potter? Or is the Auror corps inefficient?'

'I'm not sure,' Potter admitted candidly. 'Oh, we're not inefficient, but none of the agitators or Death Eaters from the war are at large that we know of, which leaves us with someone I've had dealings with since becoming an Auror.'

'You don't think it's someone who's taken an intense dislike to your fashion sense or is pining and lusting after your ginger bits, then?'

'Will you stop calling her that?'

'No.' Draco smirked. Potter could insist all he liked that Draco call ginger bits by her name, but he couldn't force him to. Any opportunity to belittle the competition should be utilised. There'd not been any more rumblings about them fighting, but Draco could hope.

Potter rolled his eyes and ignored him, clearly thinking on Draco's suggestion. Draco could almost hear the wheels turning.

'We'd actually not thought it could be a jealous spurned suitor. Thanks, Draco.' Potter smiled. 'I'll forward that suggestion on to the team for them to follow up.'

'You can thank me for doing your job for you by catching this person and letting me have a minute with him. Just one minute.' Just long enough for a hex that would make them think twice before attacking Draco Malfoy ever again.

Potter grinned. 'You already saved my life by jumping in front of the spell; you don't need to defend me any more than that. Thanks for the thought, though.'

Draco bit back his response. It was just like Potter to think it was all about him. He would have liked to make a scathing comment to this effect, but Draco caught the completely open look of gratitude on Potter's face and withdrew. Oddly enough, it felt nice having Potter 's regard. Perhaps he was becoming accustomed to it. And perhaps he was going senile, too, he told himself.

'Then I insist that you attend the ball announcement with me this afternoon instead. '

Potter gave him another brilliant smile. 'I can do that.'

It made Draco almost purr to see how easy it was going to be to seduce the Golden Boy. 'Keep up that smile, Potter, and I'll have no choice but to insist that you attend the Ball as my escort for the night.'

There, just the right husky quality to his voice if the plainly embarrassed smile in response was any indication.

'I think Ginny will have me tied up that night,' Potter responded, and then rolled his eyes at Draco's raised eyebrow. 'Not that sort of tied up, you pervert.'

'That could be arranged, though. I think I'd let you tie me up if the ginger bits isn't accommodating. We could play Aurors and Death Eaters.'

'I wish you'd stop calling her that,' Potter insisted tiredly, like he was going through the motions. Which was hardly surprising, with Draco calling her that as often as possible.

….

The one drawback to insisting Potter accompany Draco when he was outside the manor was that it left little opportunity to flirt, as they were generally surrounded by the public and Potter's priority was his duty. What Draco really needed was to find a way of having Potter assigned to him permanently, requiring Potter to live in. This would give him the free time to tease and torment Potter before eventually luring him into his bed.

If it wasn't so dangerous, he'd have arranged for another attack of sorts just to promote the idea of having Potter glued to his side.

Fortune really smiled on Draco, though, at the moment. He was learning patience was a virtue and that fortune needed no nudging from him to get it to move along.

He and Pansy and Blaise dined once each week at Eric's, a fashionably expensive French restaurant nestled in a quiet corner of Diagon Alley. Potter, of course, was required to tag along, though Draco had been very gratified to find that he had learned when to keep his mouth shut.

Pansy had instigated the dinners when she discovered Draco had a free evening and should take the time to be seen with his friends, informing him it was her payment for services rendered. Draco had agreed as he'd barely had any time just for them since his act of bravery. His only stipulation had been that Pansy's husband not attend. Draco had no time for the elderly Markus Vertigan.

Pansy's marriage was yet another outcome of the war that had farseeing, long-lasting consequences he found distasteful.

Draco would still marry her now if the fifty-year-old Vertigan would let her go.

Eric's accommodated their needs well. The elegantly decorated restaurant had an open foyer where celebrities could pose for photos if required. Draco loved it.

'You're getting used to me hanging off your arm, aren't you, Potter?' Draco asked, pressing closer to Potter's side and smiling for the cameras.

'Not sure about that,' Potter replied, flashing the reporters the famous Potter smile. Draco had to admit that it didn't look half bad on the man these days. Along with a better brand of robes, a decent cologne and some hard work taming the mop of hair into a tousled just-shagged look rather than a someone-just-scared-me-out-of-my-wits mess, Potter looked altogether…not bad.

At least he made Draco feel like he was being escorted by someone he didn't have to shrink way from.

Besides, he did love to torment Potter.

'Oh, don't be shy about it,' Draco said, turning and giving Potter a coy look, catching Potter's raised eyebrow. Draco laughed inwardly and leaned closer to whisper in Potter's ear. 'We fit, Potter.'

When he pulled back there was a lovely flush on Potter's cheeks. 'Just doing my job,' Potter retorted gruffly, though he was still smiling for the cameras. Draco really hoped that the pretty blush was the picture used in the newspapers. It would give that ginger bits enough ammunition for a hell of a fight with the Golden Boy.

Draco grinned and moved them through the heavy curtains and into the restaurant proper, where they would be able to dine undisturbed.

*

'So, Blaise, tell me about your latest conquest,' Draco demanded after they'd finished the main course.

'Oh, no,' Blaise shot back, shaking his head as he dropped his knife and fork onto the plate in front of him. He glared at Draco. 'Last time I spoke to you about a partner, you broke us up.'

'Don't be so melodramatic. He was no good for you, and you know it.' Draco waved Blaise's objections aside. 'Besides, if he was put off by hearing stories about how I lured you into my bed, then he was never going to fit in with us anyway.'

'And what difference does that make? We never socialise with Markus, or with whoever your paramour happens to be,' Blaise said, narrowing his eyes.

'Both entirely different,' Pansy chimed in. 'Even I don't want to eat with Markus, and he'd probably die of apoplexy if you and Draco began talking about buggering each other senseless.'

Draco laughed as, from the corner of his eye, he noticed Potter choking on the last of his dinner.

Pansy continued. 'And it's been so long since Draco here had anyone worth shagging that I'm sure if he did, he'd hide him from us.'

'How do you know how long it's been?' Draco huffed while Blaise snickered in the background.

Pansy merely smiled. 'The callouses on your hand, darling.'

Blaise and Potter both roared in laughter, while Draco reddened.

'Bitch!' he growled playfully. 'Potter, you're supposed to be protecting me; do something!'

'Not from your friends, Draco.' Bastard was laughing at him, too.

'Recovered from choking on your dinner when you heard Blaise has had his cock up my arse sometime in the past, have you?' No one ever said he had to be nice to the prick.

'Merely surprised you're all so open about it,' Potter protested.

'Why not?' Blaise shrugged. 'It's only sex.'

'You've lived a sheltered life, haven't you, Potter,' Pansy teased.

'I had other things than sex to worry about,' Potter rejoined.

Luckily the waiter arrived at that point because Potter had successfully reminded them about the war and all the implications of it, thereby casting a grey cloud over the atmosphere. Which was just as well, Draco thought, or else he'd have had to take issue with Pansy over the calloused hands. He took great care to ensure that his hands were always delicately soft. No callous was allowed anywhere near his hands.

Besides, he didn't wank that much.

'Evening, Pierre,' Draco said, bestowing a generous smile on the waiter holding a delicious chocolate and cream dessert on a platter in front of him. 'What do you have there?'

'Chocolate torte with thick cream, Sir,' Pierre replied, lowering the tray so Draco could see it properly. 'Compliments of an admirer.'

'Thank you.' Draco smiled and gestured toward the table. 'Did he give a reason?'

'He mentioned that it was the least he could do for someone who put himself in danger for Harry Potter, Sir.'

Draco lifted his cutlery. 'It looks delicious,' he said, loading up his spoon. 'Where is this mysterious admirer? I'd like to thank him.'

Pierre turned and motioned towards a table in the back. Draco squinted but could not make out anyone. He was about to nod and smile at the shadows anyway, when Potter's hand on his arm stopped him.

'Don't.' The tone made Draco's blood run cold.

'What was his name, Pierre? Do you remember what he looked like?' Potter asked. The waiter looked blank for a moment and then confused.

'He was…he was just average. I-I can't remember.'

Draco dropped the spoon, startled, as Potter leapt up and charged towards the corner. A few seconds later he was back, shaking his head. 'Gone.'

'What's the matter, Potter?' Blaise asked.

'Pierre's been a waiter here for as long as I've known about this restaurant: if he can't remember who it was then he's either been Confunded, or the person was using a kind of Notice-Me-Not charm. Either way, there's something off about that dessert.'

Draco placed both hands in his lap, gripping them tightly in an effort to stop them shaking. Someone had deliberately tried to kill him! Because, of course, Potter was right: Pierre was an excellent waiter and would know all of the regular patrons as well as noticing a strange one.

'Get me out of here,' he said quietly to Potter, thanking Merlin that his voice held.

'Just a moment.' Potter picked up the platter and waved his wand over the dessert, encasing it in some form of protection. 'I'll get you home and then take this back to the office for further study.'

'I don't care what you do,' Draco hissed. 'Just get me the fuck home, now!'

He could, of course, Apparate on his own but he didn't want to let Potter out of his sight just now, not even for a moment. Not until he was safe at the Manor.

Potter looked at Pansy and Blaise and nodded. 'Follow us?' He then looked at Pierre. 'I suggest that you have a full guest list available immediately. Either myself or another Auror will collect it.'

'I-I'll tell the Manager, Sir, of course.' Pierre bowed, looking distraught.

Potter stood and took Draco into his arms, and Draco was too shaken, too grateful for the protection to care that he practically melted against Potter.

A moment later, they Disapparated home.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Not Mine. :)

* * *

**Notes:** Originally written for **aoifene**'s cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was **Envy.** Thanks to **aoifene**, **weasleywench** and **nocturnali** for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Hope you all enjoy this one. Many thanks for the lovely reviews.

Jamie

xxxx

* * *

Several hours later, Draco felt much safer and had calmed down significantly. Though the hour was late, the anxiety of the evening's events still simmered away in his stomach, prohibiting him from sleep, so he insisted on Pansy and Blaise keeping him company in the drawing room. With a decanter of rather expensive, aged brandy.

At least until Potter returned.

Draco had almost not let Potter leave to perform his duties, but Potter had been so concerned about him and fussed over him so much that in the end Draco had been glad to see him go. He wasn't a _girl_ for Merlin's sake! His mother was much the same and he could never stand her fussing over him, either. Only when he was too sick to protest did he endure cosseting.

In any case, the Manor was safe and Potter was off sleuthing to find out more information.

'Well, I suppose you two are even now,' Blaise said, sliding his arm along the back of the couch.

'Who? What?' Draco knew he was feeling the effects of the brandy. When slightly tipsy he tended to speak in short sentences, the fewer words the better. He thought it made up for the fact that by the time he was completely sozzled he could talk anyone under the table and then some. Even if no one understood a word he said.

'You and Potter,' Blaise replied, tickling Draco's nape with his fingertips. It was nice, Draco decided, but he wasn't going to allow his fright and subsequent need for comfort to drive him into accepting Blaise back into his bed. 'You're even now. Remember? You stepped in front of a curse for him, and he saved your life tonight?'

'Right,' Draco agreed and drained his fourth brandy. 'Could have been a completely innocent dessert.' Poor bloke probably took off at seeing an enraged Potter charging at him. Draco thought that seemed a much more logical explanation than someone trying to kill him. What had he done to deserve that? Lived through the war? Been shoved in front of a curse, through no fault of his own? That hardly warranted revenge on this scale.

'You don't believe that any more than Potter does,' Blaise said, shifting closer and laying his hand around Draco's shoulder.

'Don't.' Draco turned and frowned at Blaise, feeling the echoes of that very word from earlier in the night when Potter used it. He shivered lightly.

'Don't what?'

'Arm. Move it.'

Blaise backed away, holding his hand up. 'Sorry, just offering some comfort. You look distressed.'

'You know as well as I do that he can't bear to be touched when he's like this, Blaise. You have to wait until he's rambling drunk and then he's as affectionate as a kitten and about as easy to get into bed as a Knockturn Alley whore.' Opposite them, Pansy rubbed her foot up the back of Blaise's calf. Her drawl spoke of several snifters of brandy, too and her words hinted that if Blaise behaved himself then he could find her in his bed, instead.

Blaise looked back at her, eyebrows raised, and Draco knew that both of them would spend the night in the guest wing, in Silenced rooms. Pansy was a screamer.

Draco sighed, hit by momentary jealousy. In one respect he should be happy. They'd managed to take his mind off the attack tonight, even though he was now trying desperately not to picture a naked Pansy's pale skin being covered by Blaise's rich, dark, silky flesh. All that did was make him more jealous that he'd be going to bed alone. As a result, he almost determined to drink himself into a stupor in order to forget about the whole evening, attack, loneliness and all.

Almost. Because Pansy was right, when he was completely sozzled, not only did he talk for minutes basically without drawing a breath, but he also was the most affectionate person he knew. With Blaise and Pansy tangled up in each other, the only other person in the house, besides his mother, was Potter.

And that was not happening. At least not while he was drunk. Too much information would slip if he were drunk around Potter. Seduction was best achieved sober. Mostly sober.

With a growl, he tossed his brandy balloon against the wall. The smashing glass stopped Pansy and Blaise's conversation. 'Where is Potter? He should be here now, protecting me!'

Potter's ears must have been burning, because he walked into the room at that point, behind Pippy, who carried another brandy balloon and more brandy.

Potter looked haggard and tired, the lines on his face accentuating the angry, worried look in his eyes.

'Sorry that took so long,' Potter said, grabbing the brandy and pouring himself some without waiting to be invited.

'Well?' Draco demanded.

Potter drained his brandy in one long swallow and then turned blinking eyes onto Draco. 'I was right,' he said, the alcohol making his voice husky. 'Poison. A slow-acting one. If you'd eaten that dessert, we might never have traced it back to that as the culprit.'

'Is there an antidote?'

Potter nodded. 'Of course; there always is, but it might not have mattered. By the time you'd realised you were poisoned, it would've been too late.'

The ridiculousness of that statement made Draco begin to chuckle. 'What's the point of an antidote, then?'

Potter gave him a weird look, and Blaise sighed and stood. 'Come on, you drunken sot. I'll put you to bed before you declare your undying love for Potter here and embarrass yourself.'

Ignoring the hand before him, Draco glared at Blaise. 'No! Not drunk enough yet.' Draco turned his gaze onto Potter. ''M serious. What's the point of an antidote?'

Shaking his head, Potter replied, 'For accidental poisoning.'

'Fine.' Draco sighed. Why hadn't _he_ though of that?

'I also checked out the guest list from the restaurant. None of the staff remember who was at that table and the only bookings they had were for couples. Whoever was at that table, they weren't meant to be there.'

_Of course._ Draco had hardly expected anything different.

'Has anyone checked with the guests in person?' Blaise asked. Potter nodded but Draco was barely paying any attention to the conversation any more. He supposed at least his attacker was not a complete moron, but he wasn't sure if that impressed him or made him more afraid. One thing he did know was that the news called for another brandy.

He eyed Potter's brandy balloon, wondering if he could snatch it. Best not. 'Pippy. New glass.'

'Draco, I think you've had enough, darling,' Pansy whispered in his ear. 'You want to remember having Potter right where you want him, don't you?'

Draco nodded eagerly.

'Well, then stop drinking, or all of your effort will be wasted.'

Draco patted Pansy's cheek fondly and nodded distractedly once more.

'Potter, take me to bed,' Draco demanded imperiously. He heard a groan and felt an elbow in the ribs from Pansy. He gave her a scorching glare and rubbed his side.

'It's all right, Potter; I'll take care of him. You can come back in the morning.'

'Can't,' Potter replied. 'I've been assigned to stay with Draco exclusively.'

That cheered Draco considerably. 'Good! Well, take me to bed. I insist!'

He tried to stand, but only wobbled around. Perhaps the stress and anxiety of the evening was getting to him. That and the brandy.

'Draco…'

'Shut up, Blaise. Potter's prettier 'n you.'

Potter blushed.

''Sides, he protects me.' Draco felt the niggling reminder in the back of his head telling him he'd regret this in the morning, but he didn't really care. At least he wasn't rambling drunk or he'd be confessing everything. And here was a perfect, completely innocent, logical and reasonable excuse to get Potter to take him to bed.

"It's all right, Blaise; I'll put him to bed. I'd have to make sure he made it there in any case.'

'Potter, you sound tired,' Pansy said. 'Why don't you bunk down with Draco and we'll have a house-elf prepare the spare room for you tomorrow.'

At that moment, Draco could have kissed Pansy. He gave her a wink. 'Splendid idea,' he said, as if that settled everything.

Potter merely rolled his eyes and slung Draco's arm around his shoulder, wrapped an arm around Draco's waist and helped him to his bedroom.

…..

It was with no little disappointment that Draco woke the next morning, hung-over and bleary-eyed to see Potter asleep in the chair in the corner.

As Draco watched Potter, his first reaction was to blame him for his headache and the churning in his stomach. But, as he continued to watch, eyes trying desperately to bore a hole into Potter's brain to get him to wake up, he noticed a small tuft of hair moving in time with Potter's breathing. It was such an oddly _human_ thing, that it softened Draco considerably.

He told himself that it was only because he didn't think he could move without throwing up that he let Potter sleep, instead of throwing a slipper at him to wake him up so Draco could demand some hangover potion.

Instead, he went back to sleep.

…..

'We might be able to obtain some information from the magical signature of the poison,' Potter said over a late breakfast the next day.

'I would certainly hope so.' Narcissa huffed. 'I'm not very happy about someone trying to kill my son, Mr Potter.'

'Nor am I, Mrs Malfoy,' Potter replied tersely.

Draco merely sat in his chair hugging his cup of coffee to his chest and wondering why in all the hells he still felt like death warmed up even though he'd taken a hangover potion, showered and changed into his comfortable pyjamas. Potter turned his gaze on him, and Draco wanted to slide under the table: he recalled with complete clarity – damn hangover cures anyway – exactly what he'd said to Potter the previous night.

It was stress and anxiety. Definitely.

He sniffed and sipped his coffee, ignoring that Potter continued to look at him for several more minutes. When it finally became too much, he scowled and looked up at Potter. 'What?' he snapped.

'Just remembering how close I ca– we came to losing you yesterday,' Potter replied softly. 'I'm glad Robards decided we're both easier to guard if we're together and assigned me to stay here with you. The Auror detail has been reinforced with other experienced Aurors as well, so you'll be quite safe. We both will be.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'I am safe in my own home, Potter.' At Potter's attempt to interrupt, Draco stopped him by continuing, ' But, I am grateful that you're here. You can make yourself useful.'

'By…?' Potter's face held an amused smirk.

'I'm sure I'll think of something,' Draco replied. 'And you'll accompany me every single time I go out. As my escort, not my guard - so you'll have to ensure another guard to do that job.'

'Already taken care of. And you'll not eat or drink anything not already checked by me personally for any poisons or curses. Understood?'

Draco didn't bother responding; it was as it should be. 'Have you asked Severus' portrait if he knows about the poison? He had the most prodigious poisons knowledge when he was alive. He might be able to tell you who made it, given that he taught most of the gifted potion makers still working.'

'Good idea, Draco,' Potter said, smiling. 'We'd not thought of that.'

'Of course not. Not only do I have to save you from a crazed killer but I have to find out who it was as well,' Draco replied. 'I'll be asking for remuneration, next.'

'They'd probably pay you if you wanted,' Potter joked back.

'Shut it, Potter,' Draco replied, tiredly. Why had he thought that having Potter around all the time would be a good idea? It was only the first day and the man was irritating to the extreme. He was _too_ nice, _too_ accommodating and altogether just so annoyingly… _nice!_

His frustration was interrupted by the arrival of a well-rested Pansy and Blaise. They greeted everyone and took empty places at the table.

'Good morning, Narcissa, Draco, Potter,' Pansy greeted them. She took a diary from her bag and ruffled through the pages.

'Good morning, Pansy, dear, and Blaise, too,' Narcissa replied, smiling knowingly at the two. 'You slept well, I trust?' Draco groaned. His mother always did know too much about what went on with his friends. He suspected that she was quite happy that Pansy cheated on her husband, seeing that he'd beaten Draco for her hand in marriage.

Pansy had no qualms about responding to Draco's mother with a broad smile and patting Blaise's leg as she nodded. Blaise settled for making an unidentifiable noise and then concentrated on filling his plate. Blaise was not a morning person.

'Draco, my love,' Pansy said. 'You have a wireless interview in an hour, so you might want to get ready for that.' She gave him a look up and down. 'Unless, that is, you are planning on wearing _that_. Though I must say, I don't think that's a good idea. Even though the public cannot see you, there will be photographers hanging around.'

'Wait. You're telling me that I have engagements today?' Draco complained. 'Pansy, I was almost killed last night!' He let the comment about his attire slide. Pansy wasn't stupid enough to think he'd leave the house in his sleepwear.

'All the more reason to continue life as normal,' Potter chimed in. 'If you alter your schedule, they think they've won by intimidating you to change your life.'

'They can win, for all I care! What's to stop someone hurling a hex at me while we're posing for these photographs?'

'Me.' The grin on Potter's face and certainty of his tone infuriated Draco. Potter had caused this whole mess in the first place. 'Have you seen the paper this morning?' Potter asked, holding it out. 'Or have you been too busy nursing that hangover and feeling sorry for yourself to notice?'

Gritting his teeth, Draco snatched the newspaper and scanned the headlines. It soon became obvious that the public was staunchly on his side. They were incensed that the same cowardly villain was now attacking the person who had saved their hero. Draco relaxed his jaw, gratified that he had so much support even though no one had mentioned that it might have been a different person altogether than the one who attacked Potter. The thought quickly followed that the support was appropriate, seeing as he was a hero himself now. And was quickly becoming a much-loved hero, too.

He didn't give any room to the notion that he had engineered this whole thing with his spell. That particular idea was packed away in the back of his mind, carefully covered by the rationalisation that he'd not needed the spell. Whoever had pushed him in front of the curse had done the spell's work for him.

Blaise took the paper and scanned it as well. 'No one would dare try anything out in public now, Draco; they'd be lynched by anyone who witnessed it.'

Draco smugly looked back at Potter. 'I barely need you now: I have the whole wizarding world concerned for my safety.'

'I'm glad, Draco, but I'm still not letting you out of my sight. It only takes one curse…'

'Yes, yes, I understand and I'm not so stupid as to do away with your services. You still owe me, Potter, and until this person is caught, you're stuck with me.'

'Draco, darling, you had better go and dress that lovely body or else your adoring public will be mobbing you for a completely different, albeit more enjoyable, reason than trying to end your life,' Pansy said, causing his mother to laugh.

While he was comforted by the fact that his mother was hiding her worry well, which meant that she felt he was safe enough, despite the events of the previous night, he still planned on keeping Potter close. And when he got over this hangover properly, that meant very close indeed.

….

Despite the attack, Draco's life became one long set of 'events'. On Valentine's Day he received several _hundred_ cards and gifts. After checking for curses, hexes, love potions or any other form of magical enchantments, Draco opened many of them, wanting to see tangible evidence of how much he was loved by the wizarding public. Some showered him with flowers and expensive chocolates. The creepier cards included underwear. When Draco opened a card that contained a used pair of bloomers, he gave up in disgust and instructed the house-elves to open the rest and sort them.

There were radio interviews, more newspaper and magazine interviews, attendances at various functions and charity dinners. It seemed everyone wanted to speak to Draco and ask the most inane questions about his life: the Ball he was going to host, his favourite charity, his favourite fashion designer and even his nickname as a child.

There were stories printed by 'insiders' about his anonymous contributions to charities in the years after the war when his money was not socially acceptable. Then, both he and his mother had been frustrated and upset over the need for anonymity. Now, those donations made him out to be a true philanthropist, giving because it was needed rather than because it might earn them something in return. Now, they respected him and his mother both. And with his newfound freedom and his mother's reticence at leaving the Manor fast disappearing, he asked her to accompany him to several functions, along with Potter, of course, and she readily accepted.

His heart warmed to see his mother regaining some of her elegance and grace in public. Her beauty had a tenderness about it, now, developed through the years of being isolated. She was becoming, in public, every inch the gracious lady that he'd always known at home.

Despite Snape not being able to shed any light on who had made the poison, informing Potter that it may well have been imported from overseas, Draco was having the time of his life.

By far, his favourite events were those that he was required to 'dress' for. Those occasions had several rather fun aspects that catered to his vanity. Of course, it meant that he was able to appear in all the latest fashions from Paris. That alone was worth suffering the seemingly-endless fittings required for purchasing them. He'd tried to suggest that as they had his measurements, there should be no further need to measure, but Lemani insisted that because each of the fabrics fell a different way and the styles were all original, each garment must be fitted individually.

But the most surprising aspect of these functions was that Potter showed an inordinate amount of style and had obviously been tutored in how to behave at these upper-class events. The scruffy hair almost always had that just-shagged look these days. And Draco actually found quite it acceptably…attractive. The glasses remained; albeit they were clean, and Potter's robes, stunningly, were also Lemani.

Pansy always attended the functions with them, seeing as she was his manager, so to speak, and she whispered into his ear on more than one occasion that he and Potter looked so well matched, she expected any day to hear about Draco's triumphant seduction of the Golden boy.

Draco had to admit that he'd had less free time than he'd liked to have had in order to be successful in the seduction of Harry Potter. To be truly successful, one must have the time to present oneself in the best possible light. In private, preferably. Especially if the target considered themselves straight, and even more so if they were in a relationship with a ginger bint who still opened her legs for him on a regular basis. When Draco allowed Potter an hour or two free time that was. He wasn't heartless. Besides, he needed the occasional break from Potter, too.

Most evenings, by the time they arrived back at the Manor, all Draco wanted to do was fall into bed. And in the mornings, it started all over again. The situation was not without some small measure of success, however. Draco caught the smiles Potter gave; for the cameras or not, the sincerity behind them was real and he wondered if this was a quality Potter owned or had developed when he'd learned diplomacy in the years after the war. Either way, the looks encouraged Draco's mission.

He just needed a little nudge to set things moving along.

…..

On one of his rare free evenings at home, Draco and Potter sat in the lounge, having a quiet drink while his mother read some paperwork to do with the ball.

'Draco, we need to consider security for the ball.' She looked at him over the top of her reading glasses.

The sheaf of papers on the desk in front of her seemed to be growing every day; full of plans and ideas for catering, decorations, music, guests, seating arrangements, and the countless number of other things that went into organising the charity ball of the season. He was leaving the organisation of most of the minutiae in her capable hands and he thought she had not looked so alive and happy in many years - not since he'd been a child.

'Potter can organise that,' he replied, smiling at her and sending Potter a warm smile, too.

'I can,' Potter agreed. 'Although I think the Minster will have his own security.'

'Yes, his office alluded to that in their acceptance,' Narcissa agreed. 'I was thinking more for the rest of the guests. We have had acceptances from many other dignitaries, and I would hate for anything to happen to a guest while attending a function at the Manor. At least we have control over who the guests will be. I'm very glad you suggested invitations, Draco.'

'Not to worry, Mrs Malfoy; I'll ensure that we have plenty of Aurors on duty.'

'Thank you, Harry, dear. And you must call me Narcissa. You've been living here for weeks now: I think we can drop the formality.'

Draco sighed at his mother's casual acceptance of Potter being in the house and her treating him like a second son. He wanted nothing more than tolerance of Potter from his mother, as she was sure to become cross with him when he sent Potter packing when all this was done. But no, Potter had gone and charmed her like he seemed to charm everyone else.

Potter grinned at her; a grin that was also aimed at Draco. 'I'll relent and call you Narcissa when Draco calls me Harry.'

His mother looked between them, but Draco stared at Potter. Cheeky bastard, he groaned inwardly. His mother would expect manners from Draco now, knowing that her wish was for Harry to drop the formal address. He decided to make the best of it.

'Certainly, _Harry_, it will be my pleasure to address you so…_intimately._' Potter shifted and lowered his gaze for a moment. But he recovered well and graced Draco with another of his dazzling smiles. The man was nothing if not resilient.

'Good, I'm glad that's settled,' Narcissa said, standing. 'I'll leave you two boys to your drinks and retire for the evening. Goodnight, boys.' She kissed Draco's forehead when he stood to say goodnight.

'Good night, Mother.'

'Good night, Narcissa.' Potter also stood and received a nod and a smile.

When she'd left the room, Draco turned to Potter again. 'You don't have any problems organising security I take it, Harry?'

'Of course not, Draco.' Potter's smile and the deliberate use of his first name felt like a challenge. One Draco was eager to take up.

'Good. As long as you spend the evening by my side, the others can guard the rest of the guests.'

A slight frown crossed Potter's face but when he didn't follow it up with another inane comment, Draco asked, 'What?'

The frown cleared and Potter shook his head. 'Nothing. No problem. I'm seeing Ron tomorrow for his birthday anyway; I'll put him in charge of security.'

'Weasley? You can't be serious?'

'Why not? He'd surprise you with how good he is at planning this strategy stuff out. He has an analytical mind, apparently. Can beat almost anyone at wizard chess.'

Draco was not convinced Weasel could strategise himself out of a paper bag if his life depended on it, but it was interesting about the chess skills. Surprising enough that Draco agreed to accept Potter's word. But that raised another question.

'You're seeing Weasel tomorrow? We have no plans for that.'

'I know. It's his birthday and there's a family gathering at the Burrow to celebrate.'

'But you're stuck here with me until your lot catch whoever is attacking me - us.' Draco frowned. He was not prepared to let Potter out of his reach for any length of time.

'I've had time off before, Draco.'

'Not a whole night. I've been very accommodating letting you go and have your conjugal visits with the ginger bits, but I draw the line at a whole night.'

'It's one night, Draco. I've been working here and living with you for weeks. I've not seen my friends in that long. I've been with you or in public the whole time. I need some private time with them.'

'I don't care!' Draco was indignant. 'Your duty is to stay here and protect me, Potter.'

'You're completely safe in your own home, Draco!'

Potter looked and sounded like he was becoming as angry as Draco felt. This could not possibly be happening. Draco felt he was making progress in his seduction mission. He was not about to lose that advantage over a mere Weasley's birthday party.

'That is entirely beside the point, Potter. You owe me and you said that whatever it took you would make sure I was safe.'

'You _are_ bloody safe, you moron.'

Draco stalked over and sneered right up close into Potter's face. 'You're calling _me_, the person who jumped in front of a curse for you, a moron?' Draco shook his head. 'Oh, right, I _am_ a complete moron for doing that. I should have let you take your fucking chances with the curse, Potter. Ungrateful sod!'

"I'll leave you double the guard, Malfoy. You'll be just as safe as if I were here. Why are you being such an arse about this?'

'I don't give a shit about the number of guards. I'm expecting you to stand by your word. That's all.'

Draco saw the flicker of guilt in Potter's eyes. And he could also see the pale skin of Potter's scalp when Potter ran his fingers through his messy hair in frustration. Draco smirked. He wasn't about to interrupt Potter's thought processes.

'Why does it have to be me? Why can't I have one night off?'

The tone in Potter's voice was almost resigned now.

'Because I said so.'

Potter's eyes narrowed. 'You're just doing this to be an arse, aren't you? You're taking advantage of my debt to you, for your own benefit, aren't you?'

'Of course not.'

'Then I'm going tomorrow night. Unless you can give me a valid reason why I can't.' Potter was in Draco's face, challenging him with every word. Draco inhaled deeply and caught the aroma of Potter's last drink.

_This_ felt familiar; not the genial, affable Potter of recent weeks, _this_ was the Potter that stirred him up, churned his stomach into knots. Draco's nostrils flared as he took in the flashing, defiant depths of Potter's eyes. A sudden jolt of electricity hit the nerve endings that led straight to his groin, leaving Draco's heart racing at the throbbing, almost painful arousal. The famous scar was a faded white line in Potter's flushed face and Draco wanted to bite it and make it as red and angry-looking as the rest of Potter.

Shocked, he blinked and realised he should just turn away, but a flash of victory in Potter's eyes when Draco didn't have an answer for him, broke Draco's self control. He growled softly as he took Potter's face in his hands and kissed him soundly.

Draco was almost as shocked as Potter appeared to be. He hadn't meant to snog Potter just yet, and certainly not in the middle of an argument, but, really, he thought to himself as he pulled back, it was perfect timing.

'That's why,' he said.

Draco bit back a laugh at the incredulous look on Potter's face. Then Potter flushed a deeper red and yelled, 'I'll be back day after tomorrow,' over his shoulder as he stormed out of the room.

While it hadn't gone quite according to plan, and Draco was more than a little annoyed at Potter for storming out, there had been one small glimpse of hope.

Harry Potter had kissed him back. Just for a moment, but it had been there.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

**Notes:** Originally written for **aoifene**'s cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was **Envy.** Thanks to **aoifene**, **weasleywench** and **nocturnali** for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Thanks to everyone for their reviews, I really adore reading how you like my story.

Enjoy

jamie xxxxx

* * *

The next afternoon, after a day being feted around Diagon Alley and fending off reporters' questions about why Potter wasn't with him, Draco collapsed relieved, into a chair and relaxed. He felt buoyed by all the adoration and attention he received, but the day had been tiring because he'd felt disgruntled at Potter's absence. He hadn't missed him but Potter's evident determination to protect Draco, demonstrated in the way he'd stopped Draco eating the dessert, meant that he just didn't trust the others to deflect an attack like he trusted Potter. That revelation had come as such a shock to Draco that he'd spent much time and energy during the day _not_ thinking about it.

'This is why you didn't organise an engagement for tonight, isn't it?' Draco complained to Pansy. 'You knew about the Weasel's party and Potter wanting the evening off, didn't you?'

'He did mention it, yes,' Pansy agreed easily.

'Why would you do that?'

'Because even he deserves a night off,' she replied bluntly. 'If you don't give him time off occasionally, he'll come to resent you and then you'll have no chance of seducing him.'

'His feelings for me are not the priority here.'

'No, of course not.' She rolled her eyes at him. 'But why make your job harder than it should be?'

His mother entered the room then, which stopped the discussion. While Draco knew Pansy was right, he was still annoyed about the whole situation. When he tried to examine why, nothing felt right. He certainly didn't miss Potter's company, nor did he care that Potter was having fun with the Weasel. Merlin knew Draco was only glad he didn't have to suffer being surrounded by redheads. Nor was it the loss of the opportunity to continue his attempt to get Potter into his bed; they had the issues of Potter's attachment to the ginger bits and the kiss to deal with first.

And it was definitely not that his stomach rolled over at the thought of Potter getting his cock sucked by the ginger bits.

Surely it was merely that he was annoyed Potter was being derelict in his duties? Though that didn't sit well, either, because Pansy, damn her, was right. He sighed and gave up thinking about it, wearied by too much thinking.

He would have preferred a quiet evening by the fire with a snifter of brandy and perhaps a good book, but his mother and Pansy had different ideas and wanted to finalise more plans for the ball.

Blaise, the traitor, begged off and went to leave but stopped at the last moment. He dragged Draco off to one side for a private conversation.

'Rumour has it that Potter and his girlfriend are on the verge of a break up,' Blaise said quietly so that Draco's mother and Pansy, who were chatting over table placements, could not hear.

'Oh, and where did you hear this juicy piece of gossip?' Draco asked.

'I heard them arguing in a shop this afternoon. Very loudly and about you.' Blaise gave Draco a knowing smirk. 'You kissed Potter.'

Draco started and then glared at Blaise. 'Was that a question or an accusation?'

'I'd say that response only confirms what I heard in Gladrags.'

Blaise was infuriating when he had that 'I know your secret, so there,' smirk. Much as Draco loved him as a friend, it also made him want to smack that look right off his face.

'Just tell me what happened, Blaise,' Draco insisted.

'Then you have to tell me what snogging Potter was like,' Blaise argued.

Growling, Draco agreed, ignoring the triumphant look that shot across Blaise's face. It was a small price to pay to discover the situation between Potter and the ginger bits.

'Well, I don't know what they were arguing about exactly,' Blaise started, and Draco groaned thinking there was no substance to what Blaise claimed after all. 'Potter cast a Silencing charm but as any good Slytherin worth the name knows how to lip read, I could understand most of what they were saying.'

'Well…?' Draco pressed impatiently.

'Apparently, Miss Ginevra Weasley thinks that her hero Golden boy is cheating on her with you. She insists that as Potter spends all his time here, there is something more than common gratitude driving it. She claims that Potter could easily assign more guards to you if he really wanted and, because of his name, could twist the Head Auror around his little finger and wriggle out of having to guard you twenty-four hours a day.'

This was gold, Draco thought, and almost exactly how he'd hoped their relationship would slide. Trust the ginger bits to completely overlook the fact that Potter was being guarded as much as he was guarding Draco. If memory served him correctly, Robards had said Draco and Potter were easier to guard if they were together. Draco wondered then, amused, if Potter had conveniently _forgotten_ to inform the ginger bits of this fact. Draco's anger at Potter's absence almost completely evaporated. 'What did Potter have to say about that?'

'He was angry. I have no idea what you did to him, but he said something scathing that made Weasley go pale. That was when she launched into the cheating diatribe.'

'Potter admitted to cheating?' Not that he had really, Draco had been the one to initiate the kiss, but Potter's self righteousness would insist that he'd cheated anyway. Especially as for a second he'd kissed back. It was definitely time to exert some more pressure on Potter, drive that wedge between him and the ginger bits deeper.

'No, but he flushed redder than Weasley's hair. He mostly just got angry and told her that she didn't know him very well if she expected him to use his name to get what he wanted. She didn't like that, that's for sure, shouting that she was entitled to expect he use every ounce of influence he had so his girlfriend got to see him once in a while.'

Draco laughed. It was too perfect. Potter thought himself above using his name to get him what he wanted, did he? If he did, then it was only because people fell all over themselves to make sure Potter had what he wanted before he thought to ask for it.

'Potter calmed down then a little and tried to make nice by telling her they had the party that night to look forward to being together and they should make the most of it instead of arguing. She agreed but, Draco, she is not happy.'

'It sounds like it. I bet she's not pleased that she and the rest of Potter's hangers on have been shoved aside out of the spotlight now they prefer me.'

Blaise laughed. 'You could be right. Even I get more attention from the media these days than that lot of Gryffindors do.'

That gave Draco an idea. 'Blaise, best friend, how would you feel about doing something about that attraction you had for the ginger bits back in school?'

'You're attempting to break the Golden couple up?'

'With as much publicity as possible.'

'What about the bloke I'm seeing?'

Draco raised an eyebrow. 'Seeing as you don't care enough to even tell us his name, he can't be that important to you. Will you really miss him?'

'Point.' Blaise considered for a moment. 'Draco, that's devious,' he said. Then he smirked. 'You really do want Potter, don't you?'

Draco gave him a long stare. 'Only long enough to make the fool fall for me so I can teach him what it feels like to be rejected and dumped.'

Blaise shook his head. 'Is that worth all the trouble it will cause?'

Draco nodded. He hadn't told Blaise about everything, and he wasn't going to. He loved Blaise, but he trusted Pansy with his life. Having Potter right where he wanted was worth more than just about anything to him and definitely worth any trouble it took to get him there.

'Then I'll do it. Might be nice to find out if the collars and cuffs match.'

Draco's grimaced. 'I really don't want to know that, thanks.'

'All right,' Blaise gave in, grinning. 'Now, tell me about snogging Potter.'

'It was an accident. He was being an arse about having the night off and I just kissed him to shut him up.'

Blaise laughed. 'I thought you were more organised than 'an accident', Draco.'

'Oh, shut up and go and lure the ginger bits away from my Potter,' Draco shot back, disgruntled because Blaise was right; he generally went about his seduction with a lot more finesse than how he'd been handling Potter. Damn, but Potter always did manage to stuff up his plans.

'You do realise you just said 'my Potter', don't you?' Blaise snickered.

Draco merely glared at Blaise until he relented and left.

…..

The Potter who returned from the Weasel's birthday party had something on his mind. Draco noticed it right away at breakfast the next morning, as his houseguest was distracted, often staring off into space and not hearing when questions were directed to him.

Draco couldn't afford to have Potter slacking off on security and not paying attention to Draco's wants and needs, and so reluctantly he realised that he'd have to speak to Potter about it. He assumed that Potter's argument with the ginger bits was occupying a great deal of his thoughts and giving him some grief.

Never one to miss an opportunity to for a dig at Potter, Draco said, 'Potter, how are your eggs?' Draco thought he'd start off with something innocuous, as Potter was paying no attention to what he was eating and had somehow poured pumpkin juice over his eggs.

'Hm? Oh, fine.' Potter didn't even look at him.

'You do realise you've made them unfit for human consumption?'

'Hm? That's good.'

All right then, normal conversation was going absolutely nowhere. Draco stood and moved to Potter's side and leaned down to whisper in his ear. 'Potter…IHarry,/I I want you to throw me onto the table and fuck me senseless, right now!'

Potter startled so much he almost fell out of his chair. Draco bit his lip hard trying not to laugh at the expression on Potter's face. _Priceless_!

'Draco, you…' Potter spluttered and then stopped and looked confused for a moment, before narrowing his eyes and scowling at Draco.

'Thought that might get your attention. Care to enlighten me as to why you look like a single thought used up your brain's capacity to function?'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Potter huffed.

Draco sighed and wondered why in hell he was even thinking about seducing this idiot. 'You have not paid attention to a word I've said all morning.'

'I just have a few things on my mind.' Potter scowled at his plate.

'Well, if they're going to affect your judgement and ability to do your job then those few things are obviously fairly serious.' Draco attempted to sound considerate and concerned, but wondered if he just came across as impatient when Potter merely flashed him a glare and went back to eating the disgusting mess on his plate.

'Potter, you'll make yourself ill if you continue to eat that concoction,' Draco insisted. He called Pippy to replace Potter's plate with a fresh one, ignoring Potter's protestations. 'Talk,' he demanded when Pippy left.

'Draco…'

'Don't 'Draco' me! Your inattention could get me killed, so let's get this sorted out.'

A pained look crossed Potter's face, and Draco braced himself for a long, drawn out emotional outburst as he returned to his chair.

Surprisingly, the only thing Potter said was, 'I think Ginny and I are breaking up.' Then he went back to eating his breakfast.

'And?'

Potter glared at him. 'I don't owe you intimate details of my relationship.'

'No, but I thought we'd become friends throughout this ordeal,' Draco replied, putting as much hurt into his voice as he supposed he could get away with.

Potter replied with a calculating look, as if he didn't quite believe Draco. Several seconds went by before Potter shook his head.

'Ginny was right. You are taking advantage of this situation.'

'I beg your pardon?' _How dare she?_

'I wondered if she was right, you know. Right up until you kissed me.'

Draco ducked his head, just as he had learned to do when reporters asked him questions that should embarrass him. He wasn't embarrassed about the kiss, but Potter didn't need to know that.

'Then I knew she was right,' Potter added. Draco snapped his head up to look at Potter in outrage. But he saw Potter grinning and subsided into a frown. 'But maybe for a different reason, yeah?'

_Things are moving along very nicely, then_, Draco thought, smiling.

'Anyway,' Potter dug into his fresh lot of eggs as he spoke, 'I told her about the kiss and she wasn't happy with me. I'm just not sure what to do about it yet.'

'Why not?' Draco asked softly now, not wanting to say the wrong thing to endanger the progress he was making.

Potter looked up at Draco candidly. 'Because I liked you kissing me and I can't for the life of me work out why I want you to do it again.'

_Success_! Draco's felt the thrill of victory as a shiver along his spine. He almost rose to do just what Potter suggested in order to press his advantage, but Potter continued.

'Most of the time you're rude and arrogant and you insult people, me specifically, like you'd been practising…and yet…' Potter shook his head, clearly bemused, '…you love your mother and your friends and…I-I think I like you.'

'Oh.' Draco wasn't sure whether to be insulted or flattered.

'But it's Ginny. We've been together for years, and I do love her.'

_You keep telling yourself that, Golden boy_. 'I'd be quite happy to kiss you again, Potter,' Draco said, deciding on being flattered after all. Seeing as it worked in his favour.

'Harry.'

'Right, Harry.'

'Just because I want you to do it again, doesn't mean I want you to do it again,' Potter said, which just confused Draco. 'Oh, you know what I mean,' he amended.

Draco thought for several moments and then nodded. 'You mean that while your body would very much like me to kiss you again, your brain is telling you that you don't want it at all. At least not until the ginger bits is out of the picture.'

'You were doing really well up until that last sentence,' Potter said as he ran a hand through his hair, frowning. 'And I wish you'd stop calling her that. She's done nothing to you.'

'On the contrary, _Harry_, she is preventing me from getting what I want. Therefore I reserve the right to call her whatever I like,' Draco said light-heartedly.

'But…'

'No buts. Tonight, I am forgoing dinner at Eric's and instead I'd like you to escort me to a nightclub.'

'As long as you don't make me dance, that's fine.'

'Why does it not surprise me that you don't dance?' Draco asked, amused.

'I have no idea, I'm sure,' Potter replied back in a similar tone.

Draco rolled his eyes. 'I'll have Pansy pick up some clothes for you to wear.'

'I can sort out my own clothes, thanks.'

'Not for the club I have in mind. And just so you know, you will be dancing, but only with me. I don't plan on letting you out of my sight.'

….

The nightclub Draco chose was an eye-opener for more than one reason. In the past when Draco decided he needed an escape from the constant derision he faced in his daily life, he'd used a Glamour and lost himself in the frenetic dancing of the club scene. This was the first time he'd attended such a place without a Glamour. Having Potter on his arm was certainly a plus for publicity, but one he no longer needed, he was happy to learn. In the current climate, it was Draco's presence people were flocking to; Draco was the one they fussed over to ensure he had free drinks and whatever else he might require.

Draco waved them aside, pretending humility but inwardly he bathed in the attention.

Surprisingly, Potter scrubbed up well in the clothes that Pansy had chosen for him, not looking out of place wearing black denims, dragon hide boots and a black fitted t-shirt. In fact, when Potter threw on the black blazer, Draco had to admit that he looked pretty fit.

When they first arrived, they were shown to a table and drinks were quickly delivered. But Draco wanted to get Potter on the dance floor. The way some people did not respect personal space in the darkened corners left Draco feeling rather vulnerable, considering someone was out to kill him. At least on the well-lit dance floor with Potter up close and the guards able to keep a clearer eye on them, he'd feel safer.

'Come on, Harry; we're dancing.' Draco grabbed Potter's hand and dragged him into the writhing mass grinding on the dance floor.

Potter didn't protest much, but Draco caught the look on his face and could see he was worried. He stopped and pulled Potter to him so he could yell into his ear over the thumping music.

'Don't worry, with so many people dancing, no one will notice your two left feet. Besides, there's barely enough room to move.' Draco smirked and licked Potter's ear. 'We'll just have to stand here and sway together.'

With his hands on Potter's hips, Draco could feel him faintly trembling. He knew Potter was close to surrendering. It was probably only Potter's do-gooder Gryffindor honour that kept him from grabbing Draco and grinding into him.

Draco thought to help him out by sliding his hands down over Potter's bum while they swayed in a mockery of a dance, made more difficult by the closeness of the other patrons. When Potter tried to pull away, he backed into someone and immediately stepped forward again. Draco held him tighter to prevent him going anywhere.

'Draco, this is hardly dancing,' Potter called.

'Doesn't matter, I like being close to you. I can feel your heart against my chest, beating madly.' Draco buried his nose in Potter's ear and inhaled. 'Is it beating so fast because of me, or the music?'

Potter's little shiver made Draco smile. 'Ginny will see photos of this in tomorrow's paper.'

'Po-_Harry_, we're only dancing so closely because of the crowds. And you have to protect me, remember?'

Draco's hands wandered over Potter's firm bum, and he was pleased at how Potter sighed and relaxed fractionally, placing his hands on Draco's waist.

'I'm going to be sleeping on the couch for a month after this,' Potter complained.

'No, you won't.' Draco laughed. 'You're staying at my place remember? You could even share a bed with me if you'd like.' He deliberately pressed his lips to the soft skin under Potter's jaw, annoyed when Potter moved his head back.

'Draco, I know what I said about you kissing me, but not now, not here _in public!_ Besides, I'm with Ginny and you have to respect that.'

Draco narrowed his eyes and glared at Potter, seeing his face through various hues under the flashing lights. Respecting anything about the ginger bits was abhorrent to Draco. 'I am serious,' he growled, furious at having his plans thwarted.

Potter refused to back down, though, so Draco sighed and gave in. 'Fine, no kissing in public, but I will not be denied the chance to dance so closely with you.' He could at least salvage something from his failed seduction attempt.

'Draco this is all a bit…'

Potter still looked worried and Draco began to wonder if it was all worth it. Potter was just too…uptight. 'There are so many people here, no one even knows who we are and they care even less,' Draco insisted.

Potter glanced around to confirm that no one was even watching them. With a short nod, Potter gave in and Draco flashed him the dazzling smile reserved for the public. Then he began to grind his hips in time with the music, pressing himself as close to Potter as he could and guiding Potter's hips to move in time.

By the end of the evening they were both hot and sweaty and Draco would swear to Merlin that Potter was more than half hard in his denims. Draco knew his own cock was aching.

…..

It was a very satisfied Draco that fell asleep that night after wanking at the thought of a hot and sweaty Potter on his knees sucking Draco's cock.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

* * *

Notes: Written for aoifene's now cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose is Envy. Thanks to aoifene, weasleywench and nocturnali for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Enjoy. This one WILL have a happy ending. Promise!

jamie

xxxx

* * *

Well pleased with progress on the Potter seduction front, Draco planned several club nights after that. Oddly enough, he felt safe with Potter, even though they were exposed and more vulnerable to attack than if they were holed up in the Manor. But Pansy was right: to hide away was to let them win. Besides, Draco thrived on all the adulation and attention he was receiving from an adoring public, and it all made the threat seem further away.

Draco was even becoming used to having Potter around the Manor. Luckily the other guards were unobtrusive and Draco barely noticed they were there, only when Potter spoke to one of them or said goodnight before turning in. His friends certainly were more relaxed around Potter these days. Blaise and Potter discovered they followed the same Quidditch team, which, surprisingly, wasn't the Canons, as Draco had always assumed. Potter followed the Kestrals. Blaise had followed them forever and once he discovered that Potter was also a fan, the pair of them could often be found deep in conversation about some play or player or something. It was enough to drive Draco mad, being left out, and he interrupted as often as he could.

Potter hadn't made a nuisance of himself while living in the Manor, though Draco was always aware of his presence. It was like the house took visceral pleasure in having Potter there, and it thrummed with energy. Of course, Draco rejected the notion; houses were not sentient; it was quite obvious that the atmosphere was merely heightened with preparations for the ball and all the subsequent activity that entailed.

Draco made a habit of checking on the progress of the decorations in the formal ballroom and was pleased to see that his mother and Pansy had everything well in hand and that the room would look expensively elegant for his birthday.

He was required to stop Blaise from erecting gaudy, lewd signs over each of the tables, though. He didn't think the Minister's wife would appreciate the graphic cartoons that accompanied the old, 'Is that a wand in your pocket or are you just glad to see me', joke.

Potter laughed when he saw them. 'Use Muggle sayings and then no one here will understand them,' he joked to Blaise.

Draco glared at them both. 'If there is even one Muggle joke to be seen on my birthday, Blaise, you will be very sorry indeed. This is important to me, not something you can use to satisfy your juvenile sense of humour.'

'Lighten up, Draco; I was only joking. I understand the _dire_ consequences of embarrassing you on your big night. Pansy has already read me the riot act.' Blaise rolled his eyes.

'Well don't forget it! There's not much more than a month to go. I can have her reiterate the rules if you think you might have forgotten them.'

Blaise held up his hands. Draco noticed Potter watching with interest. 'No, I have them. No need for that.' Blaise smirked. 'Unless she wants to spend another night in my bed. Then she can say whatever she wants and I won't even hear her.'

Potter laughed. 'You and Ron would get along famously.'

'Oh, he wants his head buried between Pansy's legs, too, then?'

'Crass and vulgar; I don't want to hear it.' Draco sneered. 'And you'd better hope I don't tell Pansy that you think she'd like…' Merlin, he couldn't even finish the sentence, it was such an awful thought. 'She's supposed to be our best friend, Blaise; that's just disrespectful.'

'Someone obviously got out of bed on the wrong side this morning,' Blaise said. 'You know I meant nothing by it, it was just…' He sighed. 'I'm sorry, you're right, it was uncalled for.'

'I should make you apologise to _her_.'

Blaise's eyes widened. 'You wouldn't? She'd eat me for breakfast!'

'And you'd deserve it.'

'You look just like Ron when he knows he's in trouble with Hermione,' Potter interrupted. 'I told you, you two have a lot in common.'

Draco rolled his eyes and walked away. Blaise and Potter continued talking, and Draco fought that weird, horrible feeling of being left out. They could discuss the Weasel by themselves; he'd rather not have anything to do with it. Once Blaise started dating the ginger bits, Draco expected that would deal effectively with their blossoming friendship anyway. It was very hard to retain a friendship with someone after they've stolen your girlfriend.

…..

A few days later, he was making his way to Floo Blaise to check on his progress with the ginger bits, when he heard voices in the room and stopped to listen before entering.

'She told me she doesn't want to see me anymore,' Potter said. 'Not unless I 'exert pressure' on Robards to have someone else assigned to this case.' Draco couldn't see who Potter was speaking to, but the mystery was solved when he heard the Mudblood's voice.

'She's very angry that you're leaving her alone for long periods of time and being seen so much with Malfoy, Harry. You have to admit it's understandable that she be jealous.'

'Jealous of Draco? But why? This is my job.' Potter's protest sounded weak, even to Draco.

'But it's not just a job, is it?'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean that even I've questioned what's going on between you two. You don't look at him like he's a job. You don't dance with him like he's a job.'

There was silence for a moment and because Draco couldn't see what was going on he imagined that Potter might have cut the connection in a fit of temper. He was about to enter the room when Potter spoke again.

'He saved my life.' Potter's voice was quiet, thoughtful. 'I find it hard to treat him as just a victim. Never have been able to.'

'So, what does that mean? Are you friends now?'

'I don't think we'll ever be friends like you and I.'

Thank Merlin for that, Draco thought.

'But you're _something,_ aren't you?'

'He's…' Draco heard a sigh, '…not like I thought he was.'

'I understand protecting him is part of your job, and I understand why the Head Auror assigned you to him around the clock, but even you need time off. You need to find time for Ginny unless you want to lose her.'

'She's asking me to do things I can't do, Hermione. She's asking me to use my name to get what she wants.'

'I thought you would have wanted time off to see her, too.' More silence, which surprised and pleased Draco. He thought Potter would have jumped to agree with the Mudblood.

'I suppose you have to determine what your priorities are right now, and how Malfoy fits in with those.'

'I want this all to have never happened,' Potter muttered. 'But it has, and so now we all have to deal with the consequences. Right at this moment, Draco is my priority, and if Ginny can't see that, then, well, she'll decide what she wants to do about that.'

'Harry, is there something between you and Malfoy?'

'By something, you mean…?'

'Are you falling for him?'

Silence again and Draco held his breath waiting for an answer.

'I-'

But whatever Potter had been about to say was lost as a hand grabbed Draco's arm and he jumped in surprise. When he saw it was Pansy, he motioned her to be quiet but she shook her head and dragged him away and into the lounge.

'What did you do that for? I was listening to a very interesting conversation.'

'You do know that eavesdroppers seldom hear anything good about themselves, don't you?' Pansy asked him

'My luck has obviously changed, then, because Potter was about to tell the Mudblood that he had fallen for me.' Draco was already regretting not having heard exactly what Potter's words were.

Pansy raised an eyebrow. 'Your plan has worked, then, I take it? Haphazard as it's been.'

'What do you mean 'haphazard'?'

'Draco, darling, you had better plans for seducing people when you were twelve than the one you've tried with Potter.' Draco frowned. 'Oh, don't look like that; Potter was always the one who managed to wreck all your plans in the past. Why should this be any different?'

'Except this time I _am_ going to succeed,' Draco hissed. 'That spell was like taking a hit of Felix Felicis. Everything is going according to plan. Everything.'

Apart from the person trying to kill you?'

'Even that. I'm confident that whoever it is will not succeed while I am under the effects of this spell. Oh, I'll let Potter think I am panicking, but I know he'll stop whoever it is and I know the spell will prevent anything bad happening to me.'

'Draco, that spell was only to deflect the love to you, not to protect you. Potter's had more people out to get him in his lifetime than you'll ever have.'

'And yet he's still alive. If I have whatever he has that makes people love him, then I surely have that sort of protection as well, right? It's logical.'

Pansy gave him a doubtful look and shook her head. 'And if I remember correctly, you actually were panicking the night Potter stopped you from eating that dessert.'

'Well…' Draco shifted uncomfortably. 'I was at first, but nothing's happened since.'

'Potter's doing his job well, then? Protecting you?'

'He's adequate.'

'He's more than adequate, Draco,' Pansy said, sighing and moving to the chair near the fire and sitting down.

'What are you talking about? Are you going soft on him all of a sudden?'

'No, I'm not!' She glared at him. 'I know only too well what he was like back then.' Then she sighed again. 'I just think he's changed. Turned his life upside down for you, and we both know he didn't really have to.' She began fidgeting with her hands.

Draco sat beside her and placed one of his hands over hers. 'What's wrong?'

'Nothing.' She smiled at him. 'Not anymore.' She stopped fidgeting.

'Tell me,' he insisted.

'Remember those plans for the new brewery Markus was having trouble getting past the Ministry planning committee?'

'Yes.'

'Potter had something to do with changing their minds, because the approval came through very suddenly and with many apologies.'

'That doesn't mean Potter had anything to do with it.' Draco frowned. 'They may have just decided that as you're associated with me, there was no reason to hold them up any longer.'

Pansy shook her head. 'Darling, that's what we thought, too, until Bromberg from the planning committee cornered Markus in his office one day and told him to be thankful he had friends like Potter to smooth the way for him.'

'That's just Potter sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong again,' Draco said.

Shrugging, Pansy smiled. 'Regardless, he didn't have to do anything, and we wouldn't have even known had Bromberg not mentioned it.'

'You are going soft on him,' Draco accused.

'No, Draco. I just think he's different than I thought and…and I've seen the way he looks at you. Maybe it's not such a good idea to–'

'Oh, no, I'm not backing out now. I've got him right where I want him, and–'

'Will you listen to yourself?' She took a deep breath, and Draco glared at her. 'Have you ever thought that it may be only because of the spell that Potter seems to like you? Where will the victory be if it's not really Potter that falls for you, merely the effects of the spell?'

'He'll still be broken, regardless,' Draco hissed. 'That was the point of seducing him, if you'll recall.'

Pansy held up her hands. 'Just be careful.' She put her arms around his waist and hugged him. 'Things have a habit of backfiring on you, Draco.'

'I'll be fine, Pansy.' He hugged her back. 'Don't worry about me: you'll get wrinkles,' he said, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Everything was going according to plan, and Draco didn't want his best friend in a sombre mood.

Pansy nodded against his chest. He stroked her hair. 'Hey, how about coming to the photo shoot today with me?'

She looked up at him, a faint smile on her face. 'You mean I get to ogle all the other pretty boys in line for the Most Charming Smile Award?'

'You can ogle to your heart's content,' he promised.

'I should probably be there anyway, as your Manager.'

Draco was pleased to see the animation coming back into her face. 'Good. Markus can do without you for an afternoon. He'll be busy with his brewery plans anyway, won't he?'

'Markus, who?' she joked and hugged him again.

They laughed as they pulled apart. Potter walked in, looking like a thundercloud.

'What's wrong with you?' Draco asked, careful to ensure he didn't gloat over what he'd heard.

'Nothing,' Potter replied.

'You don't normally look like you could strip a Hippogriff back to bone with just your eyes,' Draco argued.

Potter's reaction wasn't what Draco expected it to be.

'It's nothing important,' Potter said after taking a few deep breaths. Potter's actions surprised Draco; he'd expected Potter to let fly with that temper of his. Part of Draco wanted that; wanted to feel the flare of something hot and slick in his belly that had ignited the last time he'd fought with Potter. Wanted to plunge into the depths of those angry eyes once more.

But after what Pansy had just told him, he had an unaccustomed pang of sympathy for the man and decided to let things lie. He'd leave Potter to his misery over the ginger bits and divert him with something much more tempting; something that would be of more lasting benefit to Draco than a fleeting brush with arousal.

'Of course not,' he said cheerfully. 'I have the perfect distraction. Pansy is coming with us to the photo shoot. She can keep you company while I am fussed over, made to look even more glamorous and then photographed.'

Pansy gave Draco a knowing smile and hooked her arm through his.

'Better you than me,' Potter said, managing a smile.

Speaking to Blaise could wait. It looked like the ginger bits was going to dump the Golden Boy without any further interference - on Blaise's part, anyway.

…..

Having a professional dresser had its merits, Draco thought, as the woman fussed over every aspect of his presentation. He'd given up using the house-elves to dress him years ago when one of them tried to dress him as a carbon copy of that fruitcake Lockhart, complete with lavender robes.

Much as he liked wizarding robes and wore them religiously for formal functions, he appreciated how much more of him was visible in Muggle clothing. In the current political climate, where many Muggle ideas were being happily integrated into wizarding society, Draco was satisfied that his image would only be heightened with his obvious acceptance of this new trend. Not to mention he looked damned sexy in the black trousers, white shirt and soft grey cashmere jumper chosen by the dresser. With his hair tousled just so, leaving a few strands flopping down over his eyes, even the mirror whistled.

Seeing Potter openly watching him in the reflection of the mirror only made Draco preen further under the attention. He gave Potter one of his glorious smiles, gratified when Potter reacted by blinking and looking away.

'You should dress like this more often,' Darcy, the dresser, informed him with a final check of his outfit, before heading out of the dressing room in a cloud of accessories and pins.

'I might have to,' Draco said mostly to himself, turning in front of the mirror and checking out his own arse, which he had to admit looked hot in the trousers. 'What do you think, Harry?' he asked.

'You wear Muggle clothes well,' Potter said carefully.

Draco caught Pansy's eye and they grinned at each other.

'If you two boys don't need me, I'll be off to see what the competition is like,' Pansy said.

'By all means,' Draco replied. 'I'm sure Harry will keep an eye on me.' Draco would be happy if both of Potter's eyes remained glued to his arse.

'That is my job, Draco,' Potter replied.

Pansy moved close to kiss Draco on the cheek. She whispered in his ear, 'You look divine, darling, and you positively glow under Harry's attention. Perhaps _his_ attention is what you were after all along.'

Draco scowled. 'I have no idea what you're talking about.'

She patted his arm. 'No scowling, now, Draco; I'm merely making an observation. You seem to come alive when he looks at you.'

Draco pulled his arm free. 'You're talking nonsense! Go and ogle the other competitors.' He frowned and gave her a gentle push. 'Go on, before I tell them all that you own a purple dildo.'

Pansy laughed and moved away. 'I hardly think anyone would be surprised, considering who I'm married to.'

Draco sighed as she walked away, hating any reminder of the man Pansy had been required to marry. It wasn't as if Markus was particularly cruel or horrid to Pansy. On the contrary, he was fairly easy going and let Pansy have as much freedom to visit with her friends as she liked. It was just that he was wrong for her and she didn't love him.

As he turned back to the mirror he caught Potter still watching him. 'Taking your job a bit too seriously, aren't you?' he asked. Potter didn't even have a smile on his face.

'I don't need to smile to do my job.'

Draco folded his arms and glared at Potter. 'Well, do you think you could try? For fuck's sake, I am having photographs taken for the Most Charming Smile Award, and I don't feel like fucking smiling anymore.'

'What did Pansy say to you? You were all right before then.' Potter frowned.

'None of your business,' Draco retorted.

'Mr Malfoy, they're ready for you,' Darcy said, popping her head back in through the door.

'Thanks, Darcy,' Draco replied. 'Come on, Harry; relax and see if you can make me smile again.' Draco dragged Potter by the elbow along the short hallway to the studio where cameras and lights were set up for the photographs.

'Glad it's you having all these photos taken and not me,' Potter said, sounding cheerful at the fact that he hadn't been nominated for the Most Charming Smile Award this year.

'I would have thought you loved all the attention, Harry,' Draco replied, careful not to let the sneer he was feeling enter the tone in his voice.

Potter grinned. 'I keep telling you that you don't know me very well, but you never believe me.'

Draco snorted. 'You loved the attention in school.'

Potter shook his head. 'Whatever gave you that idea?'

'How about because you were always in the newspapers, and always attracting attention to yourself?'

The photographer walked over and introduced himself as Philippe, interrupting their discussion. Draco barely restrained himself from laughing, as Phillippe had the biggest, most grotesquely shaped nose he'd ever seen. It was worse than Snape's and that was saying something.

Instead, he took Phillippe's proffered hand and shook it. The man had a surprisingly firm grasp. 'Draco, lovely to meet you; we're just about ready. Why don't you go and make yourself comfortable on the couch over there. Thought we'd choose a setting most people identify with for you. Make them feel like you're just one of them, like the boy next door.' Phillippe grinned at Draco and his nose morphed into an even weirder shape.

Draco merely nodded, remembering his manners. Obviously, the man knew what he was doing. If Draco had any residual elitism issues with the public, this setting would soon dissolve them. Of, course if any one of his friends dared call him the boy next door to his face, Draco would not be responsible for the hexes they'd suffer.

He headed to the cream-coloured couch, which was set against a backdrop depicting French doors leading out to a Spring garden full of flowers. It reminded him of his mother's gardens at the Manor.

When he was settled, he looked around and found Phillippe playing with some equipment behind the camera. He also found Potter standing to one side, watching proceedings with a smile on his face.

Draco rolled his eyes. 'What are you smiling at?'

'Just wondered if Phillippe is any relation to Snape,' Potter said quietly, his eyes glowing with mischief.

Draco chuckled. 'I think if he heard you, he'd be rolling over in his grave.'

'I could tell his portrait.' Potter laughed. 'Minerva would thank me every day until she died.'

'Why's that?'

'Because Snape would work himself into such a snit; he'd go and sulk in his portrait in the dungeons and scare the first years stupid, instead of hanging around in her office annoying her all day.'

Draco laughed. 'Who'd have ever thought Severus would become such a curmudgeon?'

'You're joking, right?' Potter asked. 'Snape was always a grumpy old sod.'

'To you lot maybe; to us he was like a rock. We relied on him for everything,' Draco said, smiling in remembrance.

'I will admit, he was one person I could always trust to make sure I kept my feet on the ground,' Potter admitted. 'There was never a danger of me believing my own publicity while he was around; he made sure to remind me how useless I was at every opportunity.'

'Good old Severus,' Draco replied, grinning.

Potter rolled his eyes and Draco laughed.

'By the way,' Potter said. 'I've always hated the attention I've received over the years. You believed whatever was written about me. Or worse - believed what _Lockhart_ said about me. Man didn't know how to sign his own name,' Potter joked. 'Had me up on detention until midnight one night addressing his envelopes. He spelled a quill to sign all his autographs! Spent the whole night telling me his life story. Man's as boring as watching paint dry. Never could believe a word he said.'

Draco laughed again; a rich, deep laugh. Who knew Potter had such a sense of humour? And who knew that Draco'd be enjoying himself, having a discussion with Potter about something other than security arrangements?

In the background, he could hear the camera clicking away. He turned to look at it, but Phillippe shook his head and said, 'No, continue with what you were doing. You look stunning like this.'

Draco continued his conversation with Potter for several more minutes, where he found out that Granger had spent half her summer reading Lockhart's books, and that she wasn't even embarrassed to know all the answers to Lockhart's quiz about himself.

Their conversation was interspersed with murmured comments like, 'pure gold,' and, 'oh, now that's a lovely picture,' from Phillippe, but Draco ignored them other than to feel rather smug that his pictures were going to be so good. Maybe he'd have some extras printed to hand out to fans.

As soon as he thought that, he changed his mind. Handing out autographed pictures of oneself was a little too much like Lockhart for Draco's liking. Besides, Draco was above that sort of thing.

Phillippe eventually called a halt to proceedings and Pansy stepped out from behind Potter. Draco hadn't seen her the entire time; she must have been off checking out some of the others.

'You just missed it,' Draco said, smiling. 'We're done here, I think.'

'Oh, I didn't miss a thing, darling.' She leaned in and pecked his cheek, then whispered in his ear, 'I stand by what I said before. I have never seen you take such a gorgeous picture, Draco.'

'It's because Phillippe is a professional, Pansy; that's all.' Draco scowled, wishing she would just give it up already.

'Whatever you say, darling.'

Draco could hear that she was humouring him and huffed silently. He headed to the dressing room to change back into his own clothes. Fortunately, Potter hadn't overheard. The last thing Draco needed was Potter with delusions that Draco liked him or something.

Draco was glad that his mother couldn't read his thoughts, because the hypocrisy of that statement would have her looking for the naughty stick she'd used to punish him with when he was a child.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** Not Mine.

**Notes:** Originally written for **aoifene**'s cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was **Envy.** Thanks to **aoifene**, **weasleywench** and **nocturnali** for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Thanks to all of you for the reviews, I do love each and every one of them. And trust me when I say that it will all work out in the end.

Enjoy this chapter!

jamie

xxxx

* * *

When the issue of _Witch Weekly_ was released two days later, with Draco's picture on the front cover and several more inside, Draco was more than pleased. Phillippe had done an amazing job, and Draco looked stunning. The editor called Draco to let him know it was the first time in history that their whole print run had sold out within hours of being on the stands. Draco accepted their praise and thanks graciously, knowing that the crowds at his public appearances would be greater and less controllable in the future.

Indeed, when Draco next left the Manor to attend the opening of a new wizard cinema, people waited six or seven deep along the streets near the theatre, many of them waving copies of the newspaper and a quill. Thankfully, he had no time to stop and 'greet the feet' as his security team called Draco's fans. On days when he had the time, people would line up for hours, waiting while Draco signed copies of old newspapers, articles of clothing, arms, and even one very lickable chest. Many requested that he pose for pictures with them and Draco always smiled and allowed it.

Meeting his fans was something Draco both loved and hated. He hated it because, while he never tired of hearing how much his fans loved him, some of them weren't very _sanitary_ and after hours of being manhandled, he often had Pippy destroy his clothing rather than laundering them. Who knew what diseases he could pick up from them?

On the other hand, Draco loved it because they loved him. When his barely-acknowledged doubts simmered away under the surface, the adulation gave him confidence and reminded him that he was loved. It was a terrific ego boost. He asked his Auror team to obtain the names of some of the fans who seemed to follow him around. He thought one day he might make an effort to reward their devotion by stopping to chat with them, or something.

If they weren't too weird. Some of his fans had taken to dressing like him, dying their hair like his and doing very bad impressions of him sneering at everyone. Most of them seemed harmless, but some were just plain creepy.

However, sitting in the cinema watching a forgettable action-adventure premiere that starred several well-known wizard actors projected onto a twenty-foot screen, he forgot about creepy fans and wondered instead who would play him if someone made a movie of his life?

'He'd never get away with that if he were an Auror.' Potter had said this three times now.

'I bet you would, though.' Draco smirked at Potter's snort and leaned closer. 'The Golden Boy gets away with everything.'

Potter faced him, and it surprised Draco that even here in the dark cinema, he could see anger flashing in Potter's eyes, working like a match to the dry tinder of Draco's desire. Feeling the throb of arousal, Draco bit his lip, not breaking eye contact. He didn't dare say anything or move in case Potter got up and left, or worse relinquished the emotion to amusement. The best Draco could hope for was to prolong the moment by refusing to back down.

As the movie flickered and lights stuttered across Potter's face, Draco almost held his breath over the racing of his heart. He wondered if he could _make_ Potter act on the desire that was becoming increasingly obvious in his eyes, make him just shove Draco against the wall and _take_ what he wanted.

'I don't know why I bother with you,' Potter whispered.

Draco replied candidly and honestly; traits he was unused to employing with Potter. 'You bother with me because I'm not easy. Since the end of the war, everything has come easy to you; there aren't any challenges left for you anymore. But you have to work hard to understand me. I intrigue you and excite you, and you don't know why.' Draco smiled slightly. 'You tell yourself you're straight, but you want me, despite having a girlfriend.'

Potter's eyes never left Draco's. 'And what if I agree with you?'

Draco leaned forward until he could almost feel Potter's lips on his own. 'Then I'd say that you can have me, but I'll always be hard work. It's not in my nature to make life easy–'

Raucous laughter from the audience tore them apart, Potter looking away first and shifting in his seat. Draco wondered if Potter was as affected by the exchange, too. It wasn't the first time Draco had been and though that was a concern in itself, what really gave him pause for thought was the honesty with which he'd spoken. Certainly, he'd told Potter the truth as he knew it.

He'd always known Potter had a love for the dramatic; everything about Potter was larger than life and yet his love life looked like he'd chosen a pale imitation of what his personality really needed. He'd chosen the predictable option, and it had turned into a pedestrian rut.

He wondered about that; wondered if Potter found something in his life to make him wear that passion in his eyes all the time, could Draco fall for him for real?

Draco glanced at Potter, who now watched the movie once more. The man wore a frown and his lips were pressed tightly together. Potter turned and caught Draco watching him. His expression softened and he gave Draco a smile. Draco exhaled softly and shook his head, amused. He elbowed Potter. 'Give me some of that popcorn before you eat it all, you Neanderthal.'

Potter laughed and handed the box over. Draco smiled and sat through the rest of the show, nibbling on the popcorn thoughtfully.

….

Planning his speech for the AV dinner gave Draco several hours of grief. He found it hard to know what to speak about. He'd been on the wrong side of the war, after all; how was he supposed to speak about fighting the good fight and how he'd known all along that Potter would defeat the Dark Lord and save them all?

That left topics about life after the war, and Draco was fairly sure that people did not want to hear, nor be reminded of, the times when they'd spat in Draco's face, or refused him service. For a time he thought to throw it back in their hypocritical faces, make them feel small about the treatment handed out to those who'd had the bad fortune to find themselves under the Dark Lord's thrall. It would be a lovely revenge, but the spell he'd cast deflecting their love for Potter to him already showed their hypocrisy in a much harsher light.

Potter had wanted to know what topic he'd chosen, but as Draco had little to no idea, he claimed that he wanted it to be a surprise and refused to show anyone. He wondered later if he should have just asked Potter what he normally said, seeing as the Golden Boy was always asked to give a speech. However, Draco's pride wouldn't let him admit that maybe Potter knew more about some things than he did.

Instead, he holed up in his room two nights before the dinner, frantically wracking his brain to come up with a solution.

He was startled as his door opened unexpectedly and his mother entered.

'Mother! How did you get past my wards?' he asked.

'There's not a ward in this house that I cannot get past, Draco,' she replied coolly, raising her eyebrow at him. 'I am mistress of the Manor, after all.'

'Forgive me; of course.' Draco nodded. 'To what do I owe this visit?'

'I wanted to speak with you about Harry.' Her expression gave very little away other than mild concern.

'Potter? What about him?'

'Do you mind if we sit? I fear this will take a while.'

'Of course.' Draco led her to the chaise under the window and sat beside her. 'Has he said or done anything to insult you? If he has–'

'No, no, Draco. He's the perfect gentleman. You know that as well as I do. In fact, that's why I wanted to speak with you.'

Draco raised an eyebrow.

'I see what you're doing, Draco. Your flirting is making it hard for him to do his job, and I think you're affecting his personal situation with Miss Weasley.'

'But I am quite serious about flirting with him, Mother.'

'I can see that.' Her tone suggested that she knew exactly what Draco was doing. He sighed internally; he'd never been good at hiding things from her in the past and he didn't think he'd learned how to in recent times. 'You still don't particularly like him though, do you?'

'Not especially, no,' Draco replied carefully. Although there were times when that assertion was beginning to sound extremely hollow.

'So why the flirting? To hurt him deliberately?'

'Something like that.'

Her piercing gaze made uncomfortable as though she could see right through him. Disappointing his mother in any way always made him feel awful.

'I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, Merlin knows your father did that enough for the both of us when he was alive, but have you really thought this out?'

'I have,' Draco replied. 'It's just a bit of fun: no serious damage will be done.'

The look his mother gave him carried her love for him alongside the worry. 'I see the way he looks at you. Over the months he's been here, he's changed the way he sees you. And you –'

'Mother–'

'Don't interrupt me,' she said. ' I've never seen you happier than when the two of you are arguing over some detail. And you hate it when anyone takes his attention away from you. Pansy tells me that those pictures for the Most Charming Smile Award were taken while you and Harry were chatting. You looked so happy in those pictures, Draco; I want you to want that for real.'

'What do you mean, for real?'

'You smile at him like he's everything you could possibly want. What's wrong with that?'

Draco spluttered. 'It's Potter!'

'And I think he'd be a good match for you.'

'You can't be serious?'

After several moments, she sighed. 'Very well. Forgive me for even bringing the matter up. I can see that you still consider him to be an enemy. I'm disappointed, Draco, I thought you'd grown past such childishness.'

'I can assure you, Mother, that I _am_ grown past such childishness, as you put it, but that doesn't lead directly to Potter and I being a good match.' Draco hated the sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of disappointing his mother, but surely she could see how impossible a relationship with Potter was?

He closed his eyes as she kissed his forehead. Her gentle lips against his skin reminded him of the moments in his childhood when she'd been there to comfort him. 'Be that as it may, my love, I am only telling you what I see, and I see you happier when he's around than when he is not.'

Draco's voice almost caught in his throat because he _knew_ that couldn't be true. 'I am happy because I know he'll protect us, and that you're safe with him here.'

'I was safe here in the Manor before he came,' she whispered. 'Goodnight, Draco.'

'Good night, Mother.'

Draco opened his eyes as she stood and walked towards the door. He called after her, 'You can't make me like him.' He was aware that he was being childish. It was one thing to be brought to task over Potter by Pansy, but quite another thing to be admonished by his own mother.

She turned and smiled at him. 'I agree. It's not like your heart has a choice about whom you love. Falling for your father taught me that. Just don't discount the possibility; that's all I ask.'

He couldn't answer her. Contradicting her would have been lying, something he couldn't do deliberately. Not to her.

She remained silent, patient. 'What you're doing to Harry is very regressive, Draco. You're letting your past affect your future, not learning from those hard times we faced. Now that we're free from the Dark Lord, our vision must be to look forward. You need to let go of that animosity before it does some real damage to the rest of your life.'

He nodded, though he couldn't meet her eyes. Still certain that he felt nothing for Potter - nor could he ever - it felt like lying to her. And that left a bad taste in his mouth.

She had solved one problem for him, though. His key-note speech would be about learning the hard lessons of the past in order to live well in the future.

…..

'Po-Harry, why are you pacing my living room like you are stuck in tracks in the carpet?' Draco asked.

Potter did look rather dashing, Draco had to admit. Along with the black dress robes he'd chosen to wear to the AV dinner, Potter looked like he'd chewed his bottom lip all afternoon, as it was red and swollen looking. Draco wanted to capture it between his own teeth and worry it a bit more…

'I'm nervous; that's all.'

'I would have thought you'd be used to speech-giving after all these years.'

'No, it's not about the speech.' Potter ran a hand through his partially-tamed hair, ensuring that it stuck out all over the place again.

Draco sighed and grabbed his arm. 'Stand still, you idiot. Let me fix your hair for you. I'm sure no one at the dinner wants to see you looking like you've stuck your hand in one of those Muggle elkletric sockets.'

Potter stopped and his face relaxed into a smile. Then he chuckled as Draco slid his fingers through the mess, trying to return it to its earlier just-shagged look. 'It's called electricity, and if I'd stuck my finger in the socket, I'd probably be in a lot worse condition than just spiky hair.'

'Whatever.' Draco shrugged and refused to acknowledge that Potter's hair was silky soft. 'My ignorance made you stop and smile, though, didn't it?'

'Thanks for that,' Potter said, remaining still to let Draco card his fingers through his hair.

'Now, what's you nervous? You're making me anxious and I can't afford to make a mistake during my speech, you know. This is the most important speech –'

'I know; I'm sorry.'

'Well, what is it, then?' Draco stopped fixing Potter's hair but left his hands resting on Potter's shoulders.

'Everyone will be there, tonight.'

'And why is that a problem? You should feel right at home being with people you know.'

Potter's eyes closed for a second and when he opened them again and caught Draco's, they were filled with anguish. 'Ginny's said she doesn't want to see me anymore.'

It was the first time Potter had actually mentioned breaking up with the ginger bits. Draco had overheard the conversation between Potter and the Mudblood, but Potter had never admitted it aloud to Draco. Draco was satisfied and happy that it had happened, but he was uneasy over the obvious pain in Potter's eyes. Not that he was concerned about Potter's mental anguish over the ginger bits. Of course he wasn't. Potter was better off without her.

'I see. And she will be there tonight?'

"Of course she will. And not only Ginny, but the whole Weasley family, along with Hermione and various other friends. It's going to be uncomfortable that I'm with you.'

'But you've been directed to stay with me by your boss. You're just doing your job, surely?'

Potter sighed. 'She'd been after me for weeks to get Robards to assign someone else to your case to give me some time off.'

'So why didn't you?' Draco knew part, if not most, of the reason was that he'd refused to let Potter out of his sight, insisting that Potter be the one to guard him. The situation had only worsened for the ginger bits when Potter had been required to stay at the Manor. But he did wonder what Potter's reasons were.

'Several reasons.' Potter stepped back, and Draco's arms dropped back to his sides. 'At first, I was just really grateful for what you'd done; then you seemed to need me to stay, especially after the poisoned dessert.' Potter shrugged.

'Nothing to do with me wanting you, then?'

Potter rolled his eyes. 'I thought we were being serious here.'

Draco narrowed his eyes. 'I was being serious.'

'Fine, fine, whatever.' Potter began his pacing again. Draco swallowed his irritation.

'Harry, stop pacing and continue with what you were saying.'

Potter glared at Draco, but he did stop pacing. 'And then I had people left, right and centre telling me what I should do. Ginny telling me I should put her above everything, above my job, above…' Potter paused and inhaled deeply. 'I've never knowingly used my name to get something I wanted. I'm well aware that I could probably receive special treatment just by asking for it, so I don't. I want to be treated the same as anyone else, but Ginny began to insist that I use my influence to get what _she_ wanted.'

Draco bit his lip. The retort that Potter was a waste of a hero sat on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn't bring himself to insult the Golden boy when his hands clenching and unclenching made it so obvious he was working himself up into a rant.

The kind of rant that made Draco's balls ache.

'And what do _you_ want?' Draco finally said.

'I want…I want…'

Intense green eyes met Draco's own. He held his breath, waiting for Potter's restraint to shatter, waiting to be shoved Draco against the wall and just _taken_.

But it never came. Draco saw the second Potter backed away from taking what he wanted. _Brave Gryffindor, my arse_, Draco growled to himself as Potter's eyes drifted away and to the floor. His hand shot out and grabbed Potter's flashy robes where they met across his chest. He clenched his fist dragged Potter closer, snarling into his face.

'Why don't you take what we both know you want?' Several faint freckles littered Potter's nose. Under his clenched fist, Draco could feel Potter's heart beating erratically.

Potter's hand wound its way into Draco's hair, and Draco gasped. Potter tugged, wrenching Draco's face level with his. 'Because I don't _want_ to want you, Draco,' Potter whispered harshly, eyes boring into Draco's like drills of fire. Draco was barely able to catch his breath as his whole body sung with the thrill of being this close to the intensity in Potter's eyes.

He was on the verge of wrenching out of Potter's grasp of his hair and attacking those pink, chewed lips, when he heard voices approaching the room. 'This isn't finished; we'll discuss this later,' he hissed.

Potter released Draco's hair and stepped back, collecting himself, taking several deep breaths. Draco continued, 'We'll face the crowd tonight, together, Harry. If they want to make your evening uncomfortable by ignoring you, or worse, insulting me, then they'll be the ones who look immature.' Draco straightened Potter's robe for him. 'We are going to behave with complete dignity and decorum at all times.'

Potter nodded, calmer now. 'I will have to speak with them at some point, but, you're right.'

'Of course I am, Harry.'

Potter smiled. 'You had better not leave the house looking like that, though, or they'll wonder just exactly what it is we get up to.'

'What do you mean?'

'Well, let's just say I am not the only one who looks like they stuck their hand in an electric socket.'

'Imbecile.' Draco groaned and headed to a mirror above the hearth and fixed his hair back into its original style, feeling rather pleased at how his body still thrummed with excitement. He was even more pleased that he'd managed to align himself and Potter on the same side – against the Weasleys.

With some ingenious planning and clever manipulation, Draco thought he might be able to stage manage their first real kiss, under the spotlight on the dance floor, right in front of the whole of the wizarding world.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Not Mine

Author's note: Enjoy, please.

There are two quotes in this chapter that need to be attributed as follows:

The world is full of people whose notion of a satisfactory future is, in fact, a return to the idealised past.

**Robertson Davies**, _"A Voice from the Attic", 1960_

We must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.

**Joseph Campbell**** (1904 - 1987)**

* * *

Draco had never attended an AV dinner before, though he'd avidly read the reports of them each year in the newspapers, so stepping into the ballroom at the Ministry made him feel like a child at Christmas, with so much happening all at once. The event was the jewel in the crown of a peaceful wizarding world and, as such, was a glittering event, funded by the Ministry, and attended by rich and poor alike. Draco assumed that was why the whole Weasel species were out in numbers; the room was dotted liberally with shocks of red hair. He had come to respect Ron somewhat, having worked with him on the security arrangements for his ball, and having tolerated him as one of the guards on duty. The man appeared to have matured. However, Draco had no time for the rest of them. Vacuous twats the lot of them. Particularly ginger bits.

When he and Harry, along with Pansy, Markus, Blaise, his mother and her escort arrived, they were greeted like royalty.

'Ah, welcome, Draco.' The Minister for Magic shook Draco's hand in his firm grasp. The man still dressed like he belonged on a different continent, but Draco had admired several of his reforms since the war and respected him.

'Minister, thank you for inviting us.' Draco smiled. 'You know Harry of course,' Draco continued, introducing the rest of their party. 'My mother, Narcissa, her escort for the evening, Hortin MacDonald.'

'Yes, of course.' Kinglsey nodded at Harry, then bent gallantly over Narcissa's hand. 'You look lovely tonight. And Hortin, it's good to see you, too. I hear that the orphanage will be the beneficiary of the proceeds of the Malfoy ball.'

'And very honoured I am to receive it at that, Minister,' Hortin replied in a soft Irish accent. Draco noticed that Narcissa was watching Hortin with a small contented smile on her face. Draco wondered if the friendship they'd rekindled had developed into something more romantic. He hoped so; Hortin was proving to be an intelligent, well-connected gentleman, and Draco thought he might make a good partner for his mother.

Draco introduced the rest of his party and the group made small talk for a short while, before Kingsley excused himself to greet some other guests.

'Markus has seen some business associates, so we'll see you later at the table.' Pansy stretched up to kiss Draco's cheek. 'I might just change my mind about older men. If only they all were as shaggable as the Minister,' she whispered close to his ear.

Draco gave her a scandalised laugh and pushed her away. 'Go play, and leave me here to brave the crowds on my own, then.'

'You have hero Harry here to look after you, drama queen,' Pansy retorted, and caught Potter's glare. 'Oh, I'm teasing, Harry; haven't you learnt that by now?'

'Oh, I've learned that, for sure,' Harry replied. Draco knew Potter was suppressing a grin because the light in Potter's eyes changed. He frowned, wondering how he knew that. 'I just like practising my dark and surly hero look to deflect sundry attackers and fans,' Potter deadpanned then broke into a wide grin and made Pansy laugh.

It seemed Potter had overcome his nerves somewhat and was prepared to be as warm and charming as ever, despite having to face friends and pseudo-family. Draco smiled, feeling smugly responsible for having calmed the Golden boy's nerves.

As Pansy and Markus left, followed shortly thereafter by his mother and Hortin, Draco fixed his public smile in place and hung tightly to Potter's arm for support. No matter how exciting it was to give the key-note speech, it was still daunting to meet so many who'd been involved in winning the war. And to have them all treating Draco with respect and gratitude was something to be savoured.

He caught Blaise giving the crowd a speculative assessment. 'See anyone you fancy?' Draco asked.

'Hm, there seems to be several young ladies worthy of my attention.' Blaise glanced at Draco. Then looked slowly to the right. Draco followed his gaze, and saw the ginger bits, dressed in some unearthly aubergine colour that clashed horribly with her hair. Checking that Potter hadn't sighted her yet, he smirked at Blaise and nodded.

'Well, you can go and work your legendary charm on those of the female gender. I am quite happy to spend my time with Harry, here. He can help me overcome my nerves.'

'I think we're both nervous, Draco,' Potter replied, finally spotting the ginger bits and frowning.

'Then we'll think of something to calm each other,' Draco retorted, wanting Potter's attention again.

'I'm sure you'll think of something interesting.' Blaise gave him one final smirk and made a beeline for a pretty blonde witch dressed in white.

'Do you want to go and speak to them?' Draco asked. The ginger bits was standing with the Mudblood, Weasley, and Longbottom, of all people.

'I think I should get it over and done with, don't you?'

'You're probably right, but I'm coming with you.'

'Draco, that's probably not a good idea–'

'I don't care, Harry,' Draco said, moving closer to Potter's side and squeezing his arm. 'I'm not letting you handle this on your own. What sort of friend would I be if I didn't support you?'

Potter frowned at him. 'Okay, you can lay off the crap now. I know the only reason you want to go over there with me is to provoke an argument. You haven't changed that much.'

Draco sighed, unreasonably amused that Potter was so astute. 'Possibly not; however, in this instance I wasn't planning on starting an argument, so don't I get points for trying?' He gave Potter an innocent smile and was pleased to see Potter's face soften and smile in return.

'I think not. I'll be back shortly. I need to do this on my own.'

Draco studied Potter's face for a few moments, hesitating to agree with him. On the one hand, there was a chance that if Potter spoke with his friends on his own, the ginger bits would take Potter back. On the other hand, Draco would benefit from showing Potter that he could be reasonable and trusted around his friends.

'Take all the time you need, Harry,' he finally said, sighing internally.

'You'll be all right on your own?'

Draco gave him a smile he hoped appeared brave. 'I think I can manage for a little while without you. I have the Auror guard and I'll check anything I drink or eat beforehand.'

Draco reached out and ran his thumb across Potter's jaw and said softly, 'Just don't leave me here too long or someone will run off with me.'

Potter's eyes widened and he inclined his head, before turning and making his way towards his friends.

He watched Potter leave, suddenly filled with the desire to run after him and mark him somehow as taken. He bit his lip in frustration as he held himself back, not entirely sure where this possessive streak had come from. Fortunately, several other guests approached him and he consoled himself that at least he had their attention, while Potter was heading into uncomfortable waters and had to deal with an ex-girlfriend.

…..

After half an hour of listening to the aging Mellifluous Malbanger regaling him with tales of her youth and stories of how her beaus had often fought duels to win the right to escort her to balls, Draco wondered if he could feign a headache and demand Potter take him to their table. It wasn't that Draco minded the fading beauty; she was a harmless old dear, but Draco had been stealing glances at Potter talking to his friends, and he was concerned because Potter seemed to be laughing an awful lot for someone dealing with a spiteful ex.

He was on the verge of excusing himself from Madam Malbanger's company, when Potter and Granger detached themselves from the ginger bits and Longbottom and walked, sidestepping several people trying to speak to them, towards Draco. Potter was smiling at Draco, which relieved him somewhat. Perhaps he'd really let the ginger bits go. As they moved closer, though, Draco noticed that Potter was very good at covering how much it was hurting him.

Granger's annoying voice assaulted Draco's ears as they approached and, while Draco had to admit that she looked not ugly in the elegant evening dress she'd chosen, he was not looking forward to having to make small talk with her. Even if she was also smiling at him.

'Draco!' She greeted him like a long lost friend, rather than someone who had been on the receiving end of insults for years, and hugged him. Draco awkwardly patted her back and tried not to shove her away. He caught Potter's relieved smile and he sighed inwardly, resigned to making nice, just so Potter wouldn't get that kicked-puppy look in his eyes again.

'Granger. Have you met Madam Malbanger?' he asked when she pulled back.

The elderly lady held out her hand and shook Granger's. "Lovely to meet you, young lady. I've heard many stories about you, but have never been given the chance to speak to you in person.'

'Oh, all good stories, I hope?' Granger replied, smiling at the old lady. 'Pleased to meet you. You've met Harry Potter?' Granger turned to indicate Potter standing beside her. Draco watched the pleasantries, content to study Potter for any indication of how the chat with his ex had turned out. But Potter must have developed an inscrutable face for public functions, because, apart from the glimpses of pain Draco saw in his eyes, there was nothing.

After several more moments, Madam Malbanger departed to mingle with the rest of the guests and the three of them were left alone. Well, Weasley was on guard duty, too, so there were four of them.

Draco wanted to ask Potter how he was, but not in front of the other two of the Golden Trio. Instead, he waited for them to begin the conversation, expecting to be told in no uncertain terms what a prick he was for stealing their precious Potter away from the ginger bits. Or words to that effect anyway. While Ron had been decent about it, he wasn't sure of Granger's position. Words were likely to be followed by threats of extreme bodily harm if Draco hurt Potter in any way. And he wasn't worried about it in the slightest; he'd always been able to handle Granger and her shrill Mudblood mouth. Except for the time she'd slapped him.

But Granger surprised him, by continuing to be friendly. 'Harry tells me the plans for your birthday ball are coming along really well.'

Draco nodded, hesitant, waiting for the snide remark, but it never came. 'I'm leaving most of the planning to Mother and Pansy but, yes, they do seem to be proceeding satisfactorily.'

'It's a wonderful thing you're doing, donating the proceeds to the Orphanage. I can't help thinking that if we can do whatever is necessary to ensure that they're well cared for and loved, then we might never have to face another Voldemort.'

Draco could not suppress the faint shiver that travelled up his spine at her use of the Dark Lord's name.

Granger continued. 'I know Harry's very proud of you, too.'

Flicking his eyes at Potter, he saw the confirmation. Potter was proud of him, was he? Why did that feel condescending; as if Draco had never done a decent thing in all his life before Potter decided what was worthwhile and what wasn't? Perhaps his choices hadn't been the best, but he'd done the only thing he thought he could at the time. How dare she make him feel deficient? If they'd been anywhere but in public and under scrutiny, Draco would have sneered at all of them and stalked away.

As it was, he merely inclined his head and looked away to take a glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter. He sipped it, after checking for poison, letting the silence lengthen. He didn't need their approval. Gone were the days when he was hanging on by a fingernail to the bottom rung of the social ladder.

After several more uncomfortable moments, with Granger attempting more conversation and Draco remaining silent, answering with nods and eyebrow raises, she gave up, and told Potter that she'd see him later.

'She means well, you know,' Potter said after the Mudblood had walked away.

Draco shook his head and faced Potter. 'And why should I care?'

Potter flushed. 'Because she's trying to get along with you. For me.'

'That doesn't answer my question. Why should I care? I don't want or need anything from her. Approval, friendship or even tolerance.'

Potter ran his hand through his hair, his fingers parting it like a possessed comb.

Draco sighed and grabbed Potter's wrist. 'Stop that. You already look like your hair hasn't seen a comb for a month.'

'Can't make it much worse then, can it?' Potter grinned.

Their eyes met and held, Draco looking past the grin lines, deeper to where the anxiety and insecurity lay.

Potter lost the grin while Draco was caught up studying the pretty hazel flecks around the irises. 'Well, maybe you could care because I do.'

'She really is trying,' Ron said from behind him. Draco glanced at Ron. 'She knows we get along all right now and she know hows much Harry respects you. She's trying.'

Respect? Draco turned back to Potter and saw the agreement in his face. Not even in his most private dreams had he ever thought of winning Potter's respect; he'd never even admitted to wanting it. Having it meant…_something_, didn't it? Draco felt a flush of pride at his achievement – strangely enough, it actually did feel like an achievement. But if he still hated Potter, why did he care what Potter thought of him? Was Pansy's concern for Potter well-founded? But that thought just made his pride rear up and remind him that Potter had always been handed everything on a platter, which was why he hated Potter in the first place.

…..

'The world is full of people whose notion of a satisfying future is, in fact, a return to an idealised past. But how do we learn anything from that? The past must always be that, the past. Looking back and reminiscing about what "used to be" clouds endless possibilities for the future, dulls the brilliance of challenging the unknown and creates bitterness for what can never be.

'I'm not going to dwell on the past; we all know what happened, and this dinner is held every year to celebrate the end of that. Instead, I want to touch on moving forward while being able to build upon those things about our past that are of merit.

'Traditions held for the sake of tradition are repressive and become stifling. How many of you are the product of a marriage that was forged through the traditions of your family?'

Draco smiled as he looked around the room. Being up on the stage was not daunting, despite his earlier nerves. In fact, he felt like he belonged up there holding the attention of the several-hundred-strong crowd. He saw many witches and wizards nodding at his question, mostly older people.

'I won't ask you if that worked out for you or not,' he joked with them. 'Some of you might find yourself sleeping on the couch when you return home if you answer that one honestly…oh, I mean incorrectly.' He rolled his eyes at his intentional mistake.

The satisfying ripple of laughter around the room made him smile again. 'My point is that in the past no one questioned that was the "right" way to do things. It was tradition and therefore unquestionable. If the war taught us anything, me in particular, it was that everything should be subject to questioning.

'To question what has always been, is to learn and move forward. To question hatred and intolerance is to educate oneself. To examine your feelings and beliefs is to understand yourself. They are constantly changing and evolving, just like life.'

Draco paused there and looked at Potter. He caught the fondness and regard in Potter's eyes and suddenly the words Draco had just spoken had never sounded truer. Draco didn't hate Potter anymore. He wasn't sure what he felt, but the hatred had disappeared and only questions remained. A fine tremor began in his hands as his thoughts raced over what the answers to those questions might be. Potter smiled back at him and Draco's knees threatened to give out from under him. He blinked and took a deep breath, realising that he was still on stage.

He continued his speech for several more minutes before summing up. 'In the end, to move forward, we must be willing to get rid of the life we'd planned so as to have the life that's waiting for us. We must keep our minds and our hearts open for any opportunity to grow.' Draco paused briefly. 'Thank you.'

Draco stepped down from the stage to thunderous applause but he barely heard it, so thoughtful was he about his rather stupendous epiphany. Many people stepped forward to shake his hand and he complied robotically, with a fake smile plastered on his face. But his eyes were searching for Potter, suddenly feeling rather vulnerable without him by his side.

Ron stepped up beside him and took him by the elbow. 'Come on; I'll help you get back to your table.'

'Thanks,' Draco said, relieved as Ron guided him past all the outstretched hands to the relative safety of their table.

As Draco sat down, the Minister for Magic took the stage and began his own speech. Draco finally had a chance to catch his breath. He could feel Potter close beside him, regarding him with some concern and after a moment, Draco turned and looked at him. 'I'm all right.'

'You looked a bit frightened there for a moment. I can see past the smile, Draco,' Potter said quietly. Draco frowned. Was his mask wearing that thin? 'Don't worry; you looked every bit the gracious hero that they expected; only I know you better.'

Draco sighed. 'They were just pressing a bit close and I'd forgotten that Weasley was on duty and behind me; that's all.'

'All right.'

Potter placed his hand on Draco's thigh. Draco jumped at the sudden contact. He was glad they were seated at a table and that the Minister was still speaking so he could pretend no one was watching him for a minute. A strange emotion seemed to well up inside him, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to hide away and examine it, or brush it aside and think about it later. If they could leave, he would. The newness of his realisation, too raw and near the surface, like a fresh wound without a dressing, made him feel small and vulnerable in the spotlight, for once.

He was suddenly grateful beyond belief for Harry's hand on his thigh; the warmth of Potter's palm soothed him and reminded him that he had Harry's protection.

'Your speech was great, by the way,' Harry said softly. 'I liked what you said about questioning things. You're right: people change; life changes; situations change; and while we have to live with the past, we cannot spend our lives fighting to return things to the way they were before the war. I wouldn't want certain things to return to the way they were.'

Draco turned to Harry, feeling his heart skip a beat when he saw a muscle in Harry's jaw twitch. 'No?'

Harry turned to him, smiling. 'We hated each other before the war; I wouldn't want us to return to that.'

'I thought you didn't want to want me, Harry.' Draco's voice was barely a whisper, but, caught up as he was in Harry's attention, he didn't care.

'Maybe the only barriers to that have been removed.'

_Oh_.

Draco's heart sped up and he covered Harry's hand on his thigh. If Harry was saying what he thought he was saying, then this would be a perfect time for their first kiss. Even if it wasn't on the dance floor, it was public enough.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, when I spoke to Ginny earlier, I was hoping that she'd take me back.'

Draco's breath caught in a hiss. Harry's eyes flicked away, and Draco's followed them to land on the ginger bits. She was sitting beside Longbottom, who had his arm around her shoulders. When Draco returned his attention to Harry, he saw some pain and regret there.

Draco had surprised himself earlier by not asking how Harry's discussion with his friends had gone, finding that being surrounded by people was not the best place to have a private discussion. Not if he wanted to keep details of that discussion out of the newspapers. But from the looks of the ginger bits and her affectionate date, it appeared that the Golden couple were now irrevocably history.

Anger at the ginger bits hurting Harry like that flared briefly, before Draco shoved it away, convincing himself that he would be quite happy to be the one to comfort Harry in his pain and invite the man into his bed for some sympathy sex.

For some Merlin-only-knew-reason, that idea sat bloody uncomfortably in Draco's stomach like a lump of lead.

'And I take it that things didn't go according to plan?'

'It's rather obvious that she's moved on, isn't it? Besides, Neville will be good for her.'

Draco squeezed Harry's hand. 'Oh, Harry, you're just too nice for your own good. Why aren't you angry as hell and throwing things around?' Draco was rather glad Harry was sitting beside him instead of being angry and throwing things around. Harry in a rage had a powerful effect on Draco's libido. The thought of developing an erection in full view of everyone at this formal function was rather different than half a stiffy on the dance floor after rubbing against a sexy body while dancing all night.

'Maybe I realised she's right. Maybe after hearing you speak, I realised that you're right, too. Maybe I should just give in and take what I want.'

'Maybe you should.' Draco held his breath and watched the desire flicker through Harry's eyes. The rest of the room ceased to exist for Draco as he clearly saw why people talked about drowning in someone else's eyes. He felt helpless and floundering out of his depth as Harry held his gaze but he couldn't have moved even if he'd wanted to.

'Kiss me, Harry.'


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Not Mine.  
**Notes:** Originally written for **aoifene**'s cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was **Envy.** Thanks to **aoifene**, **weasleywench** and **nocturnali** for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Not another cliffie, but... dun, dun, dun...

* * *

_'Kiss me, Harry'._

He was close enough to see Harry's eyes darken in desire at the demand. He wanted to watch Harry's lips as they drew close and prepared to claim Draco's own, but he couldn't stop swimming in the depths of those eyes. They entranced him; gripping like a Grindylow attached to his ankles dragging him under for the last time.

Draco stopped breathing as he leaned in, making the first move, encouraging Harry to do the same.

Whether Harry would have kissed him or not, Draco didn't know, and he cursed the thunderous applause that interrupted them ensuring he'd never find out. Kinglsey must have finished his speech; Draco didn't feel one bit guilty for not having heard a word.

Draco almost cried out at the painful wrench in his chest when Harry turned his gaze to the stage and joined in the applause. The imprint of Harry's hand was still heavy and warm on his thigh after he removed it, but it felt like cold comfort.

'Harry!' Draco hissed under his breath, determined to not let the moment go entirely.

'Not here, Draco,' Harry replied firmly. 'Not now.'

'But–' Draco stuttered, heart still thundering in his chest, lips still anticipating Harry's closing over his. He growled. Harry was not supposed to be able to resist!

Draco bit his lip to stop himself from saying something that might put Harry off altogether; in fact he had decided that it would be best if he left to calm down in the men's room, but Harry's hand reappeared on his leg, fingers splayed along the inside of Draco's thigh. Draco just about put his teeth through his lip. Harry's hand was rubbing nerves that sent thrills of sensation straight to his cock. It was all Draco could do not to slump back in his seat, spread his legs and groan, demanding Harry put his hand where it would do some good for a change.

Instead, he managed to grind out, 'You'll pay for this, Potter.'

Harry looked at him with that innocent 'who, me?' look. But Draco knew better; Draco knew that Harry could feel him squirming.

Harry's look grew intense. He leaned in and whispered in Draco's ear, 'All in good time.' A shiver went down Draco's spine, directly to his anus; he clenched, wishing speech were tangible and could give him what Harry wouldn't or couldn't.

Draco's face felt like it was burning. Harry had made him hard and uncomfortable. Sitting here for the rest of the official part of the evening was going to be torture.

Harry's hand maddeningly continued massaging circles into his skin through his robes. Draco vowed vengeance, narrowing his eyes and suppressing a hiss of arousal when Harry's finger brushed his groin. On purpose. Probably.

Someone kicked him under the table, and he looked up sharply to see Pansy grinning like an idiot. He scowled at her and she laughed and mouthed, 'On his knees,' making Draco's already aching cock twitch at the thought.

He mouthed back, 'Bitch.' She rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the speech, leaving Draco to contemplate his revenge on Potter at the first opportunity.

Bastard.

And Draco had thought he might feel something for the prat, too. Standing up there on stage, probably visibly star-stuck at the point he'd had his epiphany…how stupid was he? He must have looked like a complete idiot. He'd even begun to think of Potter as Harry!

Draco gripped Potter's hand hard, knowing it must be painful by the way he inhaled. Potter turned to him, concerned, and Draco hissed under his breath. 'Your choice, Potter: either move your hand completely or get down on your knees under the table and suck my fucking cock, or I swear to Merlin that you'll regret it.'

A sharp intake of breath from behind signified that Ron was closer than he'd thought and had overheard. Luckily no one else would have been able to hear. Not that he cared about anyone else, but he might later on when he'd had the chance to calm down.

Potter's eyes widened in realisation and he quickly moved his hand away from Draco's thigh, which, despite being one of the ultimatums he'd been given, was obviously not the one Draco would have preferred.

When the audience applauded yet another speech, Potter apologised. 'If I'd known, I'd have stopped earlier,' he said, not a little flustered.

Draco took a few deep breaths and closed his eyes, willing himself to think of sex with ginger bits in order to make his throbbing erection fade away. After several moments, it receded enough to allow him to behave normally.

'When we get home, we are going to have a little talk about all of this,' Draco said.

Potter nodded. 'You're probably right. I think it's about time.'

In the background, Draco could hear the announcer calling Potter's name. It must be his turn for his speech. Draco nodded. 'Go and give your speech.'

Potter stood to rousing applause and made his way onto the stage to give his speech. A speech Draco paid scant attention to, instead concentrating on willing away the final vestiges of his unfortunate erection. Bloody Potter.

Ron sat down in Potter's vacated seat and Draco felt like telling him that good guards didn't leave their posts. He refrained, though: Ron was competent, and Draco felt sure that sooner or later he was going to hear about the little scene Ron had overheard anyway. Better to get it over and done with now, and then he could get back to plotting some revenge on Potter.

'All right, get it over with,' Draco said, pre-empting Ron.

'Get what over with?'

Draco faced Ron, seeing an honestly perplexed expression on his freckled face.

'You're not going to read me the riot act about not hurting your best mate? Or the one where you tell me I'm scum for luring him away from your sister?'

Ron looked shocked. 'Why would I do that?' he asked; then added, 'Ferret,' with a smirk.

Draco considered Ron carefully. 'Why not?'

Ron gave what Draco thought to be an orchestrated shrug, as if he wasn't comfortable about being so casual. 'You already know that I'll hex you so far into next week no one will ever find you, if you hurt Harry.'

Draco realised that Ron wasn't quite so blasé about the whole thing as he pretended.

'As for my sister…' he paused, then sighed. 'There's fault on both sides there. I think…' Ron paused once more, and Draco could _see_ him thinking. 'I think they were together because it was expected and easy,' Ron said in a rush, as if what he was saying was a betrayal in some way. 'Everything seems _too_ nice, _too_ easy and I can see him becoming bored with that after a while. Better to have it over and done with now rather than later when there's a marriage to dissolve and kids to think about.'

After looking at Ron for several long moments, with his mouth open in shock, Draco finally managed to say, 'Even if that means he's with me?'

Ron nodded. 'He's different with you. Oh, he wants to protect you – do his job; but he also looks at you like he can't quite work you out but that he'd like nothing more in the world than to spend his life trying.'

'And you're all right with that?'

'He's my best friend; why wouldn't I be?'

'But it's me. I'm a Malfoy. You hate me!'

'Hey, I haven't hated you since you saved my best mate's life. And we've been getting along pretty well since then. Maybe I've discovered that you're not such an evil bastard after all.'

'But–' Draco spluttered.

'But if you hurt him, I will hunt you down and make your life miserable.'

The deadly serious tone of Ron's voice stopped Draco's spluttering. He was reminded that Ron Wesley was an Auror and had gone straight to Auror training after the end of the war. He had the experience and the ability to make good on his threat.

'The only pain I intend to inflict on Harry is revenge for that little stunt he pulled earlier,' Draco lied, though it didn't feel as much of a lie as he thought it should.

He frowned as Ron snorted and bit back a laugh. 'He probably had no idea you know.'

'I don't care; the tease is going to pay for that.'

Draco noted that while they were talking, Ron continued to scan the audience, still doing his duty. He was grateful for the protection, but wondered how long it was going to continue, seeing as there had been no more attempts on his or Potter's lives.

'Why is there no progress on who attacked us?'

Ron shrugged. 'Sometimes when there isn't a clear motive for a crime, the culprit is harder to find. If there'd been credible witnesses to the first attack, we might be further along in the investigation, but seeing as no one can remember clearly what he or she looked like, then it's virtually impossible to find them.'

'I would have thought the Aurors had lists of those who had a grudge against Harry.'

'They do. As you know, we checked on them and they all seemed to have air-tight alibis.'

Draco frowned, wondering if it was the spell responsible for the attack on Potter after all. If so, there never would be a specific person to blame for it.

'Do you think it might be the same person who attacked me?' Though he'd asked this question before, he wanted confirmation that their position hadn't changed.

'We really don't know,' Ron replied, frowning. 'It seems too coincidental to not be connected, though. But while there's more traceable evidence from the attack on you, there's no other connection between the two of you prior to the attack on Harry.'

'Unless you count the incident at Madam Malkins.' Not that Draco thought Madam Malkin was responsible, but it was the only contact he'd had with Potter for years prior to that day.

'What incident is that?' Ron asked. 'Why haven't we been told about it before now?'

'It was nothing, that's why,' Draco replied. 'I was in the shop waiting to be served and when Harry arrived she insisted that she serve him first. Apparently "my kind" could wait because Harry was the hero and couldn't be expected to waste his time waiting. Harry stood up for me and told her that he wouldn't be going back there.'

Ron thought for several moments; Draco could again see him thinking. 'It's possible that she was angry enough over losing his custom that she retaliated. And then, of course, she'd blame you for it, too.'

'I'm not sure that's sufficient motivation for attempting to kill someone, though,' Draco put in.

'Maybe not, but it's about all we have at the moment. We've had no luck tracing the poison. Madam Malkin is in trade, so it'd be a simple matter for her to obtain the necessary information from overseas about any poison she wanted.'

Draco smiled. He was almost certain that she wasn't responsible, but if they still had leads to follow up, then it meant that the investigation wouldn't be wound down any time soon. That meant he'd have the pleasure of Potter's company for a good long while yet.

…..

As the evening progressed, Draco relaxed more and actually enjoyed himself. Most of the guests approached him and shook his hand, smiling and telling him what a wonderful person he was donating so much money to the orphanage, and how he was a hero by saving Harry Potter's life. Draco smiled and took it all in his stride.

There was something different about all this adulation, though. This time Draco felt rather disconnected from it all, like all their voices ran together into one blur that he'd heard a thousand times before. They weren't saying anything new, but he'd always lapped it up until now. Now it felt like background noise. That didn't detract from the buzz he felt at the attention, though.

Potter was off socialising with some of the other Weasleys; Draco had refused to spend the rest of his evening fending off threats from brothers of the ginger bits. No matter how reasonable Ron was being, he couldn't say for sure the rest of them would feel similarly.

Eventually, Draco excused himself and headed to the men's room, just for some peace and quiet, Ron, and another guard Draco could never remember the name of, in tow.

Entering the washroom, he saw Blaise standing at one of the mirrors, washing his hands. He grinned at Draco in the mirror without turning around. "Having a good evening, Draco?' he asked.

'Passable,' Draco replied, joining him at an adjacent sink and turning the tap on.

'Your speech was very well done. Did you believe a word of it?'

'Of course; what do you take me for?' Draco pretended shock. Then he grinned at Blaise. 'Actually, surprisingly enough I do believe it.'

Blaise raised an eyebrow. 'Is all that hero stuff rubbing off on you?'

Draco placed his hands under the water and rubbed them together while he thought about Blaise's question. He still hadn't told Blaise about the spell, and it had worked in a completely different way than he'd expected – not that he'd had many expectations as to how it would work – but he rather liked his life these days and he thought that perhaps his speech had some merit to it after all.

'Not rubbing off, but perhaps I just realised that everyone has to move forward sooner or later. Might not be such a bad idea if some of our other friends did the same.'

'Like?'

Draco stood and dried his hands on the self-cleaning towel hanging by the basin. 'Whoever it is trying to kill me, for one.' Draco smiled at Blaise. 'And some of our other school mates that became as isolated as we were after the war.'

Blaise nodded. 'I noticed Theo is here tonight. I saw him dancing with someone from the Ministry.'

'Really? I haven't seen him.'

'I would have pointed him out to you, but I remember he used to have the biggest crush on you and I assumed the last thing you'd want is an old school mate draping himself all over you in public.' Draco raised an eyebrow and Blaise continued. 'Potter would be likely to hex him from here to Sunday.'

'He's not that possessive,' Draco said, although he did preen a little at the thought of Potter being jealous. Perhaps that was something he could work at: the thought of seeing Potter in a jealous rage made Draco's cock twitch. Damn, he needed to get laid.

Blaise laughed. 'Possibly not, but when someone is out to kill both of you, Potter will hex first and ask questions later. And we both know Theo was always somewhat…demonstrative with his feelings.'

'Surely he's outgrown them by now?' Draco argued. "We've all grown up; that was years ago.'

Blaise shrugged. 'Don't underestimate your popularity at the moment, Draco. You could probably have your choice of partners out there tonight.'

'That thought is doing nothing for my raging libido, you bastard.'

'That's what comes of falling for a straight bloke,' Blaise retorted, shooting Draco a smirk. Draco sneered at him and turned back to the mirror, thankful Blaise was mindful they had an audience and didn't blab about his seduction plans for Potter.

'Anything worth having is worth being patient for,' Draco said, adding to himself that anyone worth doing was worth being manipulated into it. He'd been patient and waited many years after the war to reclaim his rightful place before he'd used the spell.

And Theo Nott might be just the manipulation he needed to provoke Potter and force his hand.


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** Not Mine.  
**Notes:** Originally written for **aoifene**'s cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was **Envy.** Thanks to **aoifene**, **weasleywench** and **nocturnali** for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Enjoy

jamie

xxxx

* * *

Draco left the men's room, Blaise by his side and his two Auror guards following. He paused upon re-entering the ballroom, looking around for Theo. It had been several years since he'd seen him; the boy had been sweet enough looking back in school, but a touch too clingy for Draco's tastes. And the last time he'd seen Theo was in the Hogwarts Infirmary, where he'd been recovering from the severe Stinging Hex Draco had cast on him for trying to molest him in the corridor outside the common room.

Draco had been on his way to a rendezvous with Blaise, finally, and had no time for the clumsy attempt at seduction from a Theo he'd already warned off several times. That was a mere few days prior to the end of sixth year, Draco reminded himself with a mixture of shame and remorse. It had been an awful time, only his celebration at repairing the Vanishing cabinet giving him the confidence to finally put the hard word on Blaise.

Then Theo had not returned for their ill-fated seventh year, and Draco hadn't seen him since. It would be interesting to see how he'd turned out and Draco's stomach was buzzing with anticipatory nerves.

'What are we standing here for?' Blaise asked.

'I thought seeing as Theo is here, I should find him and say hello.'

'Ah, I see.' Blaise grinned at Draco. 'And this would have nothing to do with the fact that he probably still can't keep his hands off you?'

'Of course not.' Draco sniffed. 'I'm sure he's outgrown that by now. He's probably happily married with a fat wife and seven children.'

'Theo?' Blaise laughed heartily. 'He's gayer than you, Draco, and that's saying something.'

Draco whacked Blaise's arm playfully. 'Shut up and find him for me.'

They continued looking among the guests for Theo, but it was made difficult by not being able to see past some of those on the dance floor to the tables beyond.

'What's Theo doing now, anyway?' Draco asked as they looked.

'Last I heard he'd found work as an assistant team manager for the Montrose Magpies. Looks after all the players' equipment and assists the medical team when they're on tour. A cousin or someone put in a good word for him.'

'That's a pretty low-paying job for someone of Theo's background.'

'Not everyone was as lucky as you and I, Draco. We had money and were lucky enough not to lose it after the war. Theo's parents weren't as fortunate, and with their history, he's found it hard to get work.'

'How do you know all this?'

'I still see Daphne from time to time and she filled me in.'

Draco looked at Blaise. 'By seeing Daphne you mean sleeping with her?'

Blaise laughed and loosened his collar. 'That, too, but not often.'

'You'd think a best friend would keep his best friend updated on all his old school mates, if he were still seeing them,' Draco said.

'I would have if you'd been in the slightest bit interested in their fates. Sixth year you barely spoke to anyone, apart from begging me to fuck you or shooting hexes at Theo. I didn't think you cared about any of them. Especially after you lost Vince the next year. And the less said about seventh year the better.'

Draco frowned. 'Point taken. Now where is Theo?'

Eventually, Draco spotted Theo standing by the bar, nursing a brightly coloured drink in a cocktail glass. He nudged Blaise and said, 'I get what you mean about being gayer than me.' He pointed out Theo to Blaise and then crossed the room, cataloguing the changes since last he'd seen him.

The curly blond hair hadn't changed much, though it looked less well-cared for. Draco could see he could do with a hair cut. There were more lines on Theo's face and it had lost any traces of youthful baby fat. His eyes, when they met Draco's, were still clear blue, but they seemed careworn. Theo's whole demeanour projected a downtrodden man who'd seen too much of the world.

'Theo,' he said warmly, smiling and holding his hand out.

Draco saw a flash of what looked like yearning in Theo's eyes as he reached out, clasped Draco's hand and shook it for longer than would normally be deemed appropriate.

'Draco! So good to see you again after all these years. You still look incredible.'

'Now, now, Theo.' Draco grinned playfully at him, carefully extracting his hand from Theo's. 'You'll give me a big head and make me hope you still haven't got over that crush you had on me back in school.'

'Oh! I don't think anyone could get over something like that, Draco,' Theo replied seriously. Draco felt Blaise's hand sitting at the small of his back and was grateful for it, because there was something rather creepy about the way Theo's eyes shone in adoration. Still. After all these years.

But that _was_ what he intended to play with in order to secure Potter's jealous rage, so he stepped closer to Theo, relieving himself of the feel of Blaise's calm hand.

'I am very glad to hear that, Theo. How about you buy me a drink and we become reacquainted?'

Draco was careful not to look in Ron's direction; wary of the expression he might see on his face.

Theo almost fell over himself as he ordered Draco a drink, stammering to the bartender and fumbling for the money when the drink came. Draco smiled and leaned close.

'There's no need to be nervous, Theo; we have all night.'

Theo took a deep breath and turned to smile at Draco. He looked so pathetic that Draco almost felt sorry for him.

Draco turned to Blaise and drew him close to whisper in his ear. 'Your job, my friend, is to go and find Potter and make sure he sees.'

Blaise gave Draco an enigmatic look as if debating whether or not to dispute the request. Luckily, he decided to acquiesce, and shook his head as he left, muttering about people who bit off more than they could chew.

'You still see Blaise, then?' Theo asked while he sipped nervously at the straw in his drink.

Draco nodded. 'Blaise is one of my best friends.'

'Lucky Blaise.'

Draco smiled and reached out and took the straw from between Theo's lips and bent closer to suck on it himself, keeping his eyes on Theo and making it as suggestive as he could. Poor Theo's eyes widened so far Draco wondered if his eyeballs would fall out.

He smirked and wondered if he should have left the really obvious flirting until Potter was close enough to see it. Theo looked as though he would probably combust if Draco laid on the charm too heavily all at once. Draco returned to his own drink, carefully sipping at the straw while he watched Theo.

'So, tell me what you've been up to all these years?' Draco asked. 'And do you still draw people in towels?'

He feigned interest in the response, keeping one eye out for Blaise and Potter. Theo's life since school appeared mainly to consist of several short-lived periods of employment interspersed with severe episodes of boring inactivity overlaid with copious amounts of self-pity.

Draco had some understanding of Theo's life, seeing as he'd found it hard to adapt to post-war life himself, so he felt some sympathy, but honestly, as Draco listened to the list of woes that were always someone else's fault, he saw that Theo had become a whiny, self-involved prat with a huge chip on his shoulder who thought that the world owed him a living.

Suddenly, Draco suspected that he'd picked the wrong person to flirt with, discovering once more why he could never stand Theo at school, nor had he ever seriously considered him a suitable partner. On the surface, Theo had always given the impression that he was a decent catch with his pretty eyes and blond hair, but his underlying personality left so much to be desired that it put Draco off entirely.

As Theo prattled on about a work colleague who insisted on making Theo do all the purchasing for the team when they were overseas, ensuring that Theo had to navigate wizarding quarters in foreign cities, and deal with dubious traders in languages he couldn't even understand let alone appreciate, Draco managed to insert the required sounds of agreement or the appropriate expression of shock and pity. The man was an incredible bore.

Draco plotted, wondering how soon he could escape. Perhaps having to put up with playing up to Theo Nott and possibly having to endure touching him, and even worse, having Theo touch Draco in return, was too much of an ask just to be able to experience Potter's jealousy. Draco was sure he could manage to raise Potter's anger all on his own. At home. In a place where Potter could not possibly continue to put him off. And where there would be no interruptions.

'Draco?'

Draco blinked, Theo's voice interrupting a very pleasant picture of Potter having shoved Draco into a wall and pinning him there with his body. He sighed and reverted his attention to his companion, who was looking at him with a hopeful expression.

'Sorry, I missed that,' he said unapologetically, not caring any more if he hurt Theo's feelings.

'I was saying that I'd really like to see you again. I catch up with a few of the old crew from time to time and they all miss you.'

Privately, Draco wondered what any Slytherin worth their salt was doing admitting they missed anyone, but outwardly he smiled. The words of the speech he'd given earlier returned to him and he'd said he believed them, so why not make that step forward and possibly help his fellow housemates to do the same and regain at least some of their dignity and confidence so they could behave like proper Slytherins again.

'I'd like that, Theo.' He smiled and placed his hand on Theo's arm, not surprised that the man blushed. 'In fact, I'm having a bit of a do for my birthday in a few weeks; why don't you and anyone else you still see from school all come along? It would be good to see them all again.'

'You mean it?' Theo's adoring blue eyes caught Draco's and there was something like triumph written in them. Draco understood that. Securing an invite to this function was like a passport to respectability in the wizarding world at the current time. Any of his old school mates that were still being hounded by the public for being on the wrong side of the war would be able to hold their heads up after attending Draco's ball and being seen to have Draco's patronage. Just like Pansy and Blaise had benefitted.

'Of course. What sort of friend would I be if I couldn't help out a friend now and then?' He smiled warmly at Theo, who took advantage of the situation to twist in his chair and lean over to kiss Draco square on the lips.

Of course, Potter had to walk up at that moment.

Draco wasn't even aware of it until he'd managed to push Theo away, which had taken a few seconds, as he was so shocked that Theo would just attack him like that.

When Draco saw Potter his stomach dropped like lead to his knees. The eyes that he'd so recently found himself floundering in looked hurt and confused.

'It's not–'

'Don't even try and tell me that wasn't what it looked like, Draco,' Potter replied. Beside Potter, Blaise looked disappointed.

'Don't interrupt me.' Draco stood and glared at Potter. 'And don't jump to conclusions. I'm telling you that wasn't what it looked like. Ask Ron if you don't believe me!'

'No point asking me. All I saw was you flirting with him. Wasn't close enough to hear what was going on.'

'Fuck me dead, Weasley, _now_ you fall down on the job?' Draco was exasperated. Fine, he'd take the consequences of any act he actually committed, but when he'd already made up his mind _not_ to lead Theo on, it was completely unfair that this was happening anyway. 'Theo, you tell him it wasn't what it looked like,' Draco demanded.

'Y-you're with _him?_' Theo asked incredulously.

'Well, no, not yet,' Draco replied honestly. 'But I want to be, so just tell him the truth!' And it was still true; no matter how much of a cock tease Potter was, Draco still wanted him. But unless _someone_ managed to get Potter to see that Draco had nothing to do with that kiss, then the likelihood of that happening were quickly reducing down to nothing. Draco could have stamped his feet in anger.

'B-but you–'

'That's all right, Theo,' Potter interrupted. 'You can have him.' Potter turned to his own Auror guard. 'I'm done for the night; I'm going home,' he said softly before giving Draco one final glare and leaving.

Draco stood there fighting the instinct to hex Theo to within an inch of his life. But then he directed his anger where it belonged and wanted to throw this glass at Potter's head and hoped he hurt him. What claim did Potter have on the way Draco behaved? It wasn't like he _owned_ Draco or something! He growled.

'Well, what are you waiting for, you idiot? Go after him!' Blaise jabbed him in the ribs. 'And hurry up about it, or I might hex you myself.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Look, whatever you had planned obviously backfired. He's not jealous and angry; he's hurt, Draco, and unless you want to blow your chances entirely with him, I suggest you go and do something about it.'

'Hurt? What sort of pansy is he anyway to be hurt by a simple kiss that meant nothing at all?' Draco didn't miss the sigh of disappointment from Theo beside him.

'He's one of the good guys and he really likes you,' Blaise continued. 'He thought you liked him, too, and now it looks like you were stringing him along.'

'But–'

'The longer you leave it the more hurt he is going to be.'

Fuck it all, the man was infuriating. Instead of dealing with a jealous rage, Draco was going to have to deal with an emotional, sappy… _Gryffindor_.

'Fine. Come along, Ronald,' he snarled as he walked away.


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Not Mine.

**Notes:** Originally written for **aoifene**'s cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was **Envy.** Thanks to **aoifene**, **weasleywench** and **nocturnali** for their unwavering support and encouragement. The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.

Have fun with this one. Man, I hate writing sex. lol.

* * *

It took several minutes before Draco could escape from the dinner, waylaid as he was by people wanting to speak with him. Any other time he would have been revelling in the attention, but now he wanted to hex them all back so he could go and comfort Potter… confront Potter. And settle this thing between them once and for all.

His earlier epiphany about not hating Potter any longer still played with his emotions, making him even more irritated with the situation he found himself in. And he'd discovered the first stirrings of a conscience. Knowing that didn't surprise him; the fact that he was feeling guilty about hurting Potter did. If he smoothed things over, he'd get what he wanted, though. And that was Potter in his bed, giving him the shagging of a lifetime.

Annoyed, he realised he was torn about what he wanted after that. The paramount reason for seducing Potter had been to break him. 'On his knees,' as Pansy had reminded him several times. Finding himself attracted to Potter on anything other than a physical level had not been part of the plan.

But Potter's infuriating ability to effectively evade Draco's manipulations frustrated him to the point where it prohibited any future for them as a couple. They'd always managed to bring out the worst in each other, and although the thought of the duel was enticing, the thought of never winning against Potter, never having the man bend to Draco's will, was too large an obstacle to overcome. Draco would never have any peace if he were to be with Potter.

Better, safer for his sanity, to stick with the initial plan and work out some way to beat his newly acknowledged conscience into submission.

When he finally arrived home, leaving a very disgruntled Ron at the front doors, he called Pippy.

'Pippy, is Master Harry home?'

'Yes, Master Draco. Master Harry Potter is in his bedroom, sir,' Pippy replied, offering a deep bow.

'Good. Thank you.' Draco removed his travelling cloak. 'Please ensure that we are not disturbed.'

'Yes, Master.' The elf stood there, his face scrunched up and hopping from one foot to the other, looking like he couldn't decide if he should say something or not. Draco had no time for the elf's indecision.

'What is it, Pippy? Out with it!'

The elf jumped.

Draco sighed. His elves were not used to being spoken to so harshly, but he was in a hurry.

'Master Draco, Master Potter is packing his bags, sir. Pippy is seeing Master Potter and telling him he should not be going, sir, but Master Potter says he must.' The elf looked at Draco with huge, pleading eyes. 'Master Potter must not go. The Mistress and Master will not be safe.' The elf wrung his hands.

'I will make sure Harry doesn't leave, all right?'

'Yes, Master.' Pippy stopped wringing his hands and bowed again, obviously relieved.

'What makes you think that Mother and I won't be safe if Harry leaves?'

The elf looked from side to side as if checking that no one could hear him. Draco almost laughed because there was no one in the house apart from himself and Potter.

'Pippy is just having a feeling, sir,' the elf said mysteriously. 'All the house-elves is feeling it.'

'Far be it for me to disabuse you of your feelings,' Draco said, smiling slightly, placating the elf, 'but I don't think you need worry. We're quite safe here.'

'But Master Draco will make sure that Harry Potter stays?'

'I will, Pippy. Now, as I said please ensure we aren't disturbed.'

'Thank you, Master.' The elf bowed and left.

Draco headed for the stairs, climbing them quickly, not sure exactly what he was going to say when he saw Potter. He really hoped the man wasn't crying or something equally _emotional._

When Draco rounded the corner into the hallway, he saw Potter exiting his room, bags in hand, shutting the door behind him. He'd changed into Muggle denims and a shirt, which, Draco had to admit looked bloody amazing on him.

'Harry?'

Potter looked up and frowned, then he shook his head and turned his attention back to pulling the door closed. Draco had time to see a flash of sadness in his expression before it hardened. Draco's conscience flickered to life once more.

'It's time for me to go, Draco; I should never have agreed to stay here.'

'Why not?'

Potter shook his head again and made to move past Draco and down the stairs, but Draco moved into his path.

'Get out of my way.' Potter still didn't look at Draco, but Draco could see his jaw was clenched. Whether in anger or distress, he couldn't tell.

'We need to talk about this, Harry.' Draco put out his hand to touch Potter's arm, but Potter wrenched his arm away.

'What do we need to talk about?' Potter suddenly looked up and sneered. 'Do we need to talk about how you haven't really changed at all?'

Draco's immediate reaction was to scowl and tell Potter that of course he hadn't changed. But his uneasy conscience demanded he challenge Potter's statement.

'Harry–'

Potter advanced on him; his bearing menacing. 'Don't you dare _Harry_ me! I thought you'd changed. Over the months I've been here, I believed you actually felt something for me. But it was all just a game, wasn't it?'

'No! I do want you, Harry, I didn't lie about that!' Somehow he had to make Potter see that wanting him wasn't a lie.

Potter turned away from him. Draco thought Potter was going to walk away but all he did was pace across the hall and back, clearly agitated.

'I couldn't understand just why you wanted me, why you said you liked me. I mean, you hated me last time I checked, so I couldn't work out why the bloody hell it'd changed. At first I thought it was just the same as all the other fans out there – something to do with me being the Chosen One. You have no idea how many people tell me they're in love with me.' Potter stopped. 'Or used to.' He shrugged and started pacing again.

'You're rambling, Harry.' Draco sighed and leaned against the wall, prepared to be standing there for quite some time.

'Shut up!' Potter stormed over to stand in front of Draco, poking him in the chest with his finger. 'You want to know why I'm leaving, you can fucking well stand there and listen.'

Oh, this was better, Draco thought in wonder, as Potter got angrier. Draco could already feel the tingling in his toes from where the blood refused to travel that far away from his cock.

'Fine.' Draco smirked. 'You know what seeing you angry does to me.' Unconsciously, Draco arched slightly and sighed.

'Do you do this with every fucking man you see? Is this something that all gay men do?'

Draco frowned. 'Is what something all gay men do?'

'Flirt and want sex with any bloke as long as he has two good legs and a dick?'

Scowling, Draco pushed himself away from the wall and shoved Potter in the chest. 'How long have you been living in my house?' he shouted. 'How fucking long have you been living in my house, Potter?' He didn't give Potter a chance to answer, but shoved him again so hard he crashed into the wall. Potter grimaced, looking shocked at the violence. 'Months. In all that time have you ever seen me have anyone in my bed? Have I had one unaccounted for night where I might have disappeared to fuck some anonymous lover?'

Potter had the grace to acknowledge there had been none by blushing, but he still looked mutinous even with Draco's hand pinning him to the wall. 'Then what was tonight? Why lead me on for all these months and then throw it all away acting like that with Theo Nott?'

'I've thrown it all away?' Draco asked, pressing himself to Potter's chest, sliding one leg between Potter's thighs, not prepared to let Potter get away from him now, not when the ache between his legs was demanding attention.

Potter's eyes darkened and he shoved Draco away. 'Not everything is about sex, you know,' he thundered.

'Why not?' Draco countered, regaining his balance. 'Why can't it be about satisfying some primal physical urges, occasionally?'

Potter growled. 'Go and satisfy your physical urges with Nott. You seemed to like the taste of his tonsils when I saw you earlier. Getting him into bed will probably be as easy as taking a piss.'

'What a filthy mouth you have, Potter.' Draco sneered. 'Who'd have thought their boy wonder would have such a potty mouth? I don't want Theo; I never have, never will.'

'That's not what it looked like to me. '

'If you'll take your head out of your arse long enough, I can explain.'

'I don't want you to explain,' Potter replied, assertive. He moved away from the wall and headed for the stairs.

Draco grabbed Potter's arm and wrenched him around, not prepared to relinquish the sexual tension between them _again_. 'I don't care what you want right now. You _are_ going to listen to me.'

'Why? So you can fill me full of lies about how much you want me?'

'You're repeating yourself, Potter,' Draco said, gripping Potter's arm tighter and pulling closer. 'I told you I wanted you and after that little display at dinner where you made me hard enough to drill through rock; I would think you'd know just how truthful I was being.'

Potter sneered. 'So? So, you want me? So does half the wizarding world.' Potter shook his head, disgusted. He broke free of Draco's grip. 'Now you have me descending to your level of arrogance. I thought you were different, Draco. I thought you actually cared about me. I know you know how hurt I was by Ginny dumping me–'

'She didn't deserve you!' Draco snarled, surprising himself by how true that statement felt on his tongue.

'And I thought you'd give me time; understand that I've never been attracted to a man before, never even thought about it.' Potter's face flushed at his statement. 'And now I can't get you out of my head.' He dropped his bags and faced Draco, gripping his forearms tightly.

'Good.' Draco's tone was provocative. 'I want to be in your head. I want you so filled with me that nothing else has room. I want you to be obsessed by the thought of me and what you want to do to me.' Draco's breathing had accelerated, and his cock throbbed hotly in his trousers. He hadn't quite realised how much he wanted that to be true until the words were out of his mouth.

Potter's eyes widened and his nostrils flared slightly with, what Draco hoped, was the inhalation of pheromones that were heavy in the air between them. Draco knew he was practically drowning in them and he hoped they were alluring enough to drag Potter so deeply under he'd never come up for air.

'I've been honest with you, Harry, about what I want. I know you want it, too, so why the fuck do you keep backing away from me? I know you're not a shy virgin.' Draco deliberately dropped his voice to a throaty level and he saw Potter shiver slightly. Good, it was about time Potter started reacting to Draco, rather than shoving his poor hurt feelings under Draco's nose to feel guilty about.

'Maybe I want some time to come to terms with this,' he said, fingers still digging into his arms so deeply that Draco wondered if Potter was using the grip to keep himself from surrendering. Potter's eyes searched Draco's for a moment, then he stepped back. 'I can't do this. I can't be here with you and want you and then watch you throw yourself at someone else.'

'I don't want anyone else, you imbecile! Haven't I been saying that for months?'

Potter was a damned moron, Draco thought angrily, too stupid to see what was right in front of his face.

'And then what, Draco? We shag and then you move on to the next bloke lucky enough to catch your eye?'

'So it's all or nothing with you, then? You'll not take a chance to see where this goes unless you have some guarantee that it'll be a permanent relationship?'

'I don't know, all right?' Potter yelled, getting red in the face. 'None of this makes any sense. By all rights, we should still hate each other. No one has ever been able to get under my skin and annoy the shit out of me quite like you.'

'I told you I'd never make things easy for you,' Draco said. He folded his arms in an effort to stop himself from punching Potter in the face before he jumped him and humped against his leg until he came.

Potter gave a short laugh. 'You did at that. None of this is normal. Normal is dating each other first before anything else.'

'Since when have you ever been normal?'

'I would have thought you'd have noticed by now, living with me for this long. I am normal, nothing special about me at all.'

'Merlin, ginger bits did a good job on you, didn't she?'

Potter frowned. 'What are you talking about? And don't call her that!'

Draco sneered. 'I'll call her what I like. She's managed to bring you down to her level. In ten years she'll be as wide as she is tall, you'll have several red-headed brats running around and you'll be wondering what you ever saw in her.'

'You know nothing about her, so I suggest that you shut that mouth of yours,' Potter warned, moving closer. Draco took a step back, weak-kneed with desire, as much to keep Potter moving as it was to find the wall to hold himself up with.

'Make me,' Draco taunted. 'You'll forget what it was that made you hard; wonder why you dream of other people at night when you're asleep.' Draco took another step back, seeing the anger rising in Potter once more. 'You mistake her youth for excitement. All she knows is too many children in a house that looks like it will fall apart if you blow on it.' Draco slowed his speech to clearly enunciate each word. 'She will grow up to be an exact replica of her mother.'

Potter raised his hand. Draco thought he was going to be struck; his eyes never left Potter's as he prepared for the blow. Instead, Potter grabbed Draco's throat and pushed him back the few inches to the wall.

Draco almost moaned as Potter's body followed and pressed against him. Potter's heat seeped through Draco's clothes and he could feel a hardness that matched his own. He did moan then.

'She's a damned sight nicer than you'll ever be,' Potter said, keeping his eyes on Draco's.

Draco rolled his hips as well as he was able, shivering as their clothed cocks rubbed together. 'But I bet she never made you feel like this, did she? You want to hurt me as much as you want to fuck me.' Draco strained to speak with Potter's hand around his throat controlling how much voice he had. Over the thumping of his heart, he heard himself dragging in a breath. Being held against the wall like this was heaven; Potter's answering groan and reflexive grinding of his hips made Draco exultant.

And desperate to move, to rid himself of his robes, and Potter's denims, and know the glorious heat of their erections rubbing together.

As he lifted his hands to grab at Potter's arse, he saw the wariness creep back into Potter's eyes and the grip around his throat ease.

'Oh, no you don't,' Draco snarled. 'I won't break, Harry. I don't mind if you hurt me. I want that ferocity, I demand nothing less than everything you have.' Draco reached up, grabbed a handful of Potter's hair and yanked on it to demonstrate.

Potter groaned and lunged for Draco's lips, crushing their mouths together in fury. Draco almost broke at the violence and cried out to acknowledge Potter's surrender, but any noise was lost in the frantic need to taste and bite and maul Potter's mouth. It wasn't a kiss as much as it was a duel and Draco's arousal was heightened because no matter how controlled Potter had been, he was still willing to fight Draco every step of the way. Draco tasted blood, but wasn't sure if it was his or Potter's; he couldn't have cared less. Tongues, teeth and lips were bitten, sucked and _chewed on_ until Draco saw spots in front of his eyes with the need to breathe.

His head was already crushed against the wall so he had no room to move. Potter pulled away as Draco struggled weakly under him, releasing Draco's throat. A look at Potter showed the damage; Potter had blood on his lips and Draco moaned breathlessly as he saw a thin red dribble escape the corner of Potter's mouth.

Draco rocked his hips, shaking with the need to find Potter's erection again and feel the rough abrasion against his own. 'Don't you dare stop now.'

Potter didn't hold back, pressing himself even harder against Draco, making Draco feel so very _claimed_. 'You're such a prick,' Potter said.

Draco's eyelids fluttered closed for a moment revelling in the sensation of being pinned helplessly to the wall, before he opened them and stared directly into Potter's eyes, seeing a myriad of emotions. Lust, need, doubt and fear. Potter was damned beautiful like this, Draco thought. Easily read and vulnerable, but damned beautiful.

'I have a prick, yes, one that needs to come so very badly.' Draco pulled on Potter's hips. 'You've been a tease and had me aching all damned night for this. Now be a chivalrous Gryffindor and help a man in need.'

Potter shook his head as he looked deep into Draco's eyes. 'Damn me for a fool but I do want you.'

'Fuck, yes,' Draco hissed as Potter bent to claim his lips again. This time it was better, more a joining of lips than a mashing of mouths. Draco could taste Potter's blood still and he pressed forward searching for more, ignoring the slight sting as teeth scraped over already-raw skin. But it was not enough.

'Lift my robes,' Draco gasped, pulling away. 'I want to feel your hands on my skin.'

Potter moaned and did as he was bid, grabbing Draco's robes and hitching them up enough to slide his hands underneath. They unerringly found Draco's arse and slipped under his underwear, gripping Draco's bare skin tightly and pulling his cheeks apart.

Draco felt like he was being branded; the rasp of firm fingers and the heat of Potter's hands made him shiver. He yanked Potter back to him and rubbed forcefully against him, knowing the building tension of the last few hours was going to culminate in him coming embarrassingly quickly.

Potter continued to kiss him and Draco loved all his senses being invaded by the skill of Potter's lips and the hardness of the body in his arms. Potter's whole body was shaking and Draco felt a further thrill knowing that he had reduced the great Harry Potter to mush, full of need and want.

'Yes, Harry,' he muttered as they thrust against each other, Draco's knees threatening to give out and his toes numb. 'Harder.'

Potter moaned and buried his face in Draco's neck. Hot breath in his ear made Draco squirm in pleasure.

'Fuck.' Potter gasped and Draco felt Potter's arse clenching, tense under his fingers. Moments later Potter's whole body shook in spasms and Draco couldn't help the loud grunt that echoed around the hall as he clasped Potter to him, hanging on tightly as his own orgasm shot through him, almost blinding him with the explosion. Never had coming felt so brilliant; he didn't want to stop. Draco let his body dictate what it wanted and he continued to cling to Potter, keeping him right where he wanted him while he slowly recovered.

Eventually, he pulled back to look at Potter, seeing the flushed face and questioning eyes. Knowing Potter, he'd want some deep and meaningful discussion about where they went from here. That was the last thing Draco wanted. He'd just had a brilliant orgasm and he wasn't about to spoil it with talk of the future.

'Why did we wait so long to do that?' he said as a distraction.

'Because you're such an arse,' Potter replied, not moving from Draco's arms.

'Merlin, Harry, you don't have to be in love with me to do something as brilliant as that.'

Potter's face shut down and Draco kicked himself for saying the wrong thing. He tried to hold Potter right where he was, but he disentangled himself from Draco, leaving Draco's arse feeling the loss of the hard hands and his body oddly naked without Potter's pressed against it.

'So it's just a physical thing, after all? Should have known.'

'No, Harry,' Draco protested. 'I want to do this again and more. Don't you believe me, yet?'

'Oh, I believe you. I know you want more. I just don't know if I am ready to give you more without–'

'A committed relationship?' Fuck, but the man was stubborn, Draco thought.

'I don't know, all right? This was…this was incredible, but…'

Draco scowled; he wanted to smack Potter in the face and tell him to wake up. 'When you make your mind up, you let me know,' Draco said, straightening his robes. He looked back at Potter, seeing the flushed face he'd thought beautiful only minutes ago and wondering if he'd ever not be able to think him beautiful from now on. He reached out and ran a thumb over Potter's swollen, bruised and bleeding lips, making Potter grimace. 'Let those be a reminder to you of how utterly amazing and exciting we could be together.'

He set off down the hall to his own room, but stopped and turned. 'Just don't leave. The house-elves have a feeling we won't be safe if you do.'

At Potter's nod, Draco nodded in return. At least if Potter was still living at the Manor, Draco could remind him at every opportunity what he was missing. Stupid bastard. What was wrong with a fling? Some good, healthy sex now and then? Why did it always have to come back to something else?

Logically, a relationship with Potter made sense for his plan. But logic had never been a part of anything between Potter and himself. Whatever they had defied all logic, Draco knew that, so the reason his conscience was preventing him from giving Potter what he wanted escaped him.

Confused, Draco entered his room and headed straight for the shower to wash away the sticky remnants of that mind-blowing orgasm. Regretfully.


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Not Mine:

Author's Notes: When will Draco ever learn to keep his mouth shut??

Thanks for all the reviews. They make me smile. Cookies for the one who gives me the biggest smile this week. I need it. :)

Enjoy

jamie

* * *

The morning brought with it a troubled Draco. He'd spent most of the night tossing and turning; finding rest impossible while his chest swirled with the turmoil of the previous evening. No matter how many times he turned over his emotions and faced them bravely; he could not logically accept the fact that he might have, just possibly, fallen for Potter after all.

As he lay in his bed after Pippy had flung open the drapes to let in the morning sunlight, he debated whether or not he could face breakfast. And Potter. He sighed and rolled over to look directly at the sun shining in through the window in the impossible hope of blinding himself. Maybe then he'd be able to block the visions of an aroused, bleeding Potter from his memory. A Potter who, despite being the world's biggest prude when it came to having a healthy sexual appetite, had somehow managed to make Draco think that he might have had a point about taking his time about…_things_.

Taking the unprecedented step of trying to see things from Harry's point of view, Draco had to admit that if he'd found himself attracted to someone he'd previously thought he hated, he'd probably want to take things slow as well. Draco tried imagining what he'd feel like if he suddenly found himself attracted to Granger and almost choked. Perhaps Potter did have the right idea.

In any event, the only effect staring at the sun had on Draco was to make him continue to see it even after he blinked. Potter's eyes full of lust still shimmered in his memory, so he drew the covers over his head in an attempt to just shut the world out altogether. It wasn't every day that one realised all the fighting and attention-seeking between him and his nemesis had been one long – a decade long – session of foreplay.

For a moment, he wondered if he could blame Pansy for this latest state of affairs, seeing as she had been the one to bring up how good it would be to have Potter on his knees. The thought still made his cock twitch. But he realised, with a flash of unwelcomed maturity, he would have gone after Potter anyway. It seemed like it was fate; they'd always influenced each other's lives, why not in this as well?

When he'd fallen into bed last night, still completely sated by the contact he'd had with Potter – and they hadn't even undressed – he'd tried to work out just why he wanted Potter so much. He'd thought about his physical needs and accepted Potter was gorgeous to look at and that he had a quiet strength Draco adored in men; one where Draco just knew he'd be looked after and protected, physically.

When he'd tried to offset that by reminding himself that Potter was a self-righteous, arrogant prat who thought the world revolved around him, Draco had to disagree with himself when he admitted that since Potter had moved into the Manor, he'd been nothing but a gracious houseguest.

After several hours of warring with himself and arguing, his exhausted brain had given up and he'd drifted into a troubled sleep.

Somewhere during his fitful sleep, his heart had decided to turn his traitorous brain against him. They banded together and pinned a bloody great notice to Draco's forehead: '_I have a massive crush on the Boy Who Lived!_' and left it there to be the first thing he thought about when he woke up.

Had he been obvious? Had everyone seen it and he'd been too blind, or too engrossed in his plans to notice his real motivations when it came to Potter?

It was embarrassing to think his mother might know him better than he knew himself. It was mortifying to think that his mother was better at picking a partner for him than he was. In fact, Draco decided, there was no way he was going to admit to his mother, or Pansy for that matter, that he could possibly like Potter more than he should. He just couldn't take their smug little 'I told you so' looks. Not yet. Maybe one day when he'd sorted things out with Potter – _Harry_ – he'd be able to withstand their jibes. He groaned – it was possible that he'd be like some lovesick fool anyway and not even care what they said.

He stretched under the covers and slowly drew them down, deciding that hiding under the bedclothes wasn't going to solve anything; although he did wish that he could just stay there and relive that frantically intense exchange with Harry over and over. It had been so long since he'd felt that wanted – or wanton – that each second seemed indelibly etched into his head. Even now he felt his body reacting to merely the thought of kissing Harry like that again. He smiled, wondering how Harry's lip was faring this morning. Draco's own mouth felt sore and swollen; the skin on the inside of his lips rough and tender.

Draco spent several languorous minutes wondering how Harry's mouth on his skin would feel, imagining the sting of sharp bites alongside the gentle press of soft lips. Then he remembered that it might be a very long time, if ever, before he would experience that sensation.

His mood quickly evaporated at that thought and once more he furrowed his brow with worry. What was he to do now? He had no idea how to go about entering into a relationship. If he were to be honest with himself he'd admit he'd never wanted to be in one before. He'd only ever had his parents' relationship as a guide, and if they were 'typical' of people in a committed relationship then he'd remain single forever before he subjected himself to something like that.

His mother's soft eyes when she spoke about Lucius belied the true nature of what was between them. His mother had loved his father; who in return had been cruel, domineering and overbearing, finding fault with everything his family did. Draco had often wondered what it was she saw in a man like that but those questions only led to thoughts of what might happen behind closed doors and that was something a child should never think about in regards to parents.

In any event, Lucius was dead and his mother free to pursue affection elsewhere. The fact that until now she had remained isolated from the social world meant that Draco had yet to see how to function in a healthy relationship.

It was worrying, really, because given his and Harry's volatile past, Draco was bound to do something stupid to fuck it all up anyway. If he hadn't already, that was. As Draco dressed, he looked at himself hard in the mirror, forcing himself to meet his own tense eyes and agreed that if he were Harry, he'd not want to see Draco again, either.

But then Harry wasn't like Draco, and was likely to forgive him if he could make it clear that he was sincere.

Draco's hands stopped doing up the buttons on his shirt suddenly, a button barely half way through the hole. What if Pansy was right, though, and it was only the spell that had Harry liking him?

Couldn't be, he told himself. Harry's actions were of someone who didn't like Draco half the time, someone, as he'd taunted Harry last night, who he wanted to fuck as much as he wanted to kill. That was definitely not the same sort of emotion as the mindless devotion his fans and the public were showing him.

But what if it was? Potter was the only person in history to have survived the killing curse at all let alone more than once. He knew Harry could fight off an _Imperius_ curse, so he was not susceptible to having his mind played with. Even with all the talent and power Harry had, there was a possibility this spell was so strong it could overpower Harry's own magic. What then if one day Harry found out about the spell making everyone love him, and left? What if he didn't and Harry loved him forever…?

No, if the spell worked that way, no one would be trying to kill him; Pansy and Blaise would also be trying to get into his bed and his mother – his mother would have thought twice about suggesting he and Harry made a good pair.

Immensely relieved, Draco continued dressing, only minor fragments of worry about the effects of the spell still in his mind. By the time he entered the cheery breakfast room, ready to eat, he'd pushed that worry to the back of his mind.

And replaced it with a bigger worry. What was he to do about Harry?

Draco sat at the table and, within seconds, Pippy appeared at his side with a plate of sausages and eggs and bacon. On a normal morning, he would serve him his freshly brewed coffee and hot toast. Draco looked up, eyebrow raised in question about his behaviour, to find the elf smiling at him.

'Pippy?'

'Yes, Master Draco? What can Pippy be doing for Master on this lovely morning?'

'You can explain the size of this breakfast for one thing.'

'Pippy is feeling that Master needs to sustain his energies if he is to be crashing into walls with Mister Harry Potter.'

Draco narrowed his eyes, feeling his cheeks heating up. 'And what do you know of crashing into the walls with Harry?'

Pippy gave Draco what he could only term as a smirk. Which completely shocked Draco, as he didn't think the elf had ever smirked before. Then Draco laughed; Pippy was a Malfoy house-elf after all.

Still, that did not explain the cheery and cheeky disposition this morning.

'Pippy is very happy that Mister Harry Potter is staying, Master Draco,' Pippy said.

'And that has manifested itself into feeding me a breakfast large enough to feed a small country?'

'Pippy is _very_ happy that Mister Harry Potter is staying and is thinking you is needing to keep up your strength.'

'Very well. But don't let me catch you gossiping about crashing into walls with Harry. Understand?'

The elf looked suitably chastised, which wasn't very as Draco's voice had held more amusement than admonishment. He nodded. 'Yes, Master, Pippy understands and will obey.'

'Thank you, Pippy, that will be all now.'

The elf disappeared just as his mother entered the room, looking in such a state that Draco's mouth dropped open in shock. In her dishevelled finery from the previous evening, she still looked smashing; however, her normally perfectly-styled hair was hanging loose around her shoulders and she was carrying her evening shoes. It was the smug look in her eyes and the rosy bloom in her cheeks that made Draco gasp, though. He'd wanted his mother to become more social and find some company but he wasn't sure he was ready to handle what this meant.

'Mother! I do believe that is the very same outfit you wore to the dinner last night. Am I to understand that you are only now arriving home?'

'Draco, darling, I love you dearly, but please don't presume to pass judgement on me.'

She sat down opposite Draco, nodding to Pippy who had reappeared with Narcissa's favourite tea. 'Thank you, Pippy. I'll have…' She paused, thinking, and then she grinned. 'I'll have what Draco's having. Thank you.'

Draco was at a loss for words. Narcissa Malfoy had arrived home at eleven in the morning, after an obviously big night out, probably having sex with Hortin. Draco wanted to scrub his brains out for a moment; thinking about his mother having sex was not a pleasant pastime. What was he even supposed to say to her now? Warn her to be careful? Express horror at her behaviour?

'Mother…' he started, but she held up her hand.

After she sipped at her tea, she replaced the cup onto the saucer and looked up at Draco. 'After so many years I am finally socialising again. I've found someone I like and respect and I had a lovely night. Please don't spoil it for me.'

What could he do but nod and smile? She deserved to be happy after all. Just as he did.

'Will you allow me to tell you to be careful?'

She smiled. 'Of course. I would take that as a sign you cared about me.'

'I do, Mother. I love you and would hate for you to be hurt by someone… unscrupulous.'

'You think Hortin is a gold digger?' She laughed.

'He might well be,' Draco countered.

'He has his own money, Draco. Much as I appreciate your concern, I can look after myself. I did survive your f–' She stopped herself and coloured but refused to be drawn into what she had intended even when Draco prompted her for more.

'Still, I think it best if I have a chat with Hortin to ascertain just what his intentions are.'

'Whatever you think best,' she replied, but Draco knew she wasn't paying attention as her breakfast had arrived and apparently her appetite was more important than the worry Draco had for her.

Apart from the worry that she might be hurt, Draco was actually pleased that she had some male company. She'd lost contact with most of the family friends and acquaintances since the war – those that were still alive and not in Azkaban.

Thinking of old friends reminded him of the invitations he had extended last evening.

'Mother, I ran into Theo Nott last night and invited him to the party, along with a few other old schoolmates. I don't think any of them are in a position to pay the cost of a ticket but I'd appreciate it if you could accommodate them.'

'Of course, dear. How many do you think there will be?'

Draco shrugged. 'Maybe two or three? I'm not entirely sure. Theo decided to jump on me inappropriately and Harry appeared at exactly the wrong time so I'm afraid I didn't speak to Theo after that. In fact, in light of how things ended, I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't show up at the party at all.'

'I'm surprised you still want to invite him if he behaved so badly.'

'The invitation wasn't for Theo alone, but also for the other Slytherins. I've recently become aware that I could make their lives easier by including them more in mine.'

Narcissa stopped eating for a moment and bestowed a smile on Draco that made his chest hurt. Draco knew his mother loved him and was proud of him but rarely did he see it shine so vividly in her eyes. 'Draco, that's…I'm very proud of you.'

Draco smiled, thinking that if showing concern and helping his old friends moved his mother to smile at him like that, maybe there was something in Harry's attitude towards others.

'Well I'm sure the caterers will cope with an extra few on the night.' She grinned as she sipped her tea. 'It seems that I am not the one who should be worried about protecting myself against the unwanted advances of suitors.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Laugh all you want but it was most embarrassing.'

'I'm sure it was,' she said, raising her eyebrow. 'I would venture a guess that it was the last thing you'd have wanted Harry to see.'

'Well, yes but–' He looked up at her and saw the teasing smile, 'Don't start thinking anything,' he warned. Though he couldn't help a self-conscious lifting of his chin, glad he'd decided not to tell his mother and Pansy anything. If she was already teasing him, Merlin knew what she'd do if she knew he was crushing on Harry. Best to leave that humiliation as long as he could.

'Speaking of Harry, where is he this morning?'

'No idea, I'm sure. I'm not his keeper. We had an argument last night and I haven't seen him since,' Draco replied in a sharper tone than he intended.

His mother merely raised an eyebrow and went back to eating her breakfast. Draco was pleased that she seemed to be happy, but he'd prefer not to think of what she'd been doing to work up such a healthy appetite.

He ate his own breakfast not even thinking about the irony of having also built up a healthy appetite from activities of the previous night.

It did make him wonder, though, why it was that the old people seemed to be having so much more sex than he was. Why was it that he was universally adored and yet he wasn't getting any sex at all? Why was Harry being such a girl about sex and wanting romance and a wedding before putting out, he wondered bitterly. Of course, he knew that Harry wasn't holding out for those things, but that didn't make the lack of sex any more palatable.

Draco still had no idea how to go about telling Harry that he agreed they should take things slower.

As Draco was finishing his breakfast, Pansy entered the room. He smiled and greeted her as she poured herself coffee and sat down.

'Have a good night last night, Pans?'

'Surprisingly, yes. Morning, Narcissa,' she said cheerily. 'Have you heard that Draco snagged Potter last night?'

Draco spluttered, glad he hadn't had a mouthful of coffee when she'd dropped that bombshell on the table. After a glance at his mother, who was looking just as shocked, he managed to say, 'What are you talking about?'

'Blaise told me you hared off after him when he disappeared after catching you and Theo snogging. He said that you were sure to finally succeed last night or there was never going to be any hope for you.' She grinned evilly at him and sipped her coffee. 'Seeing as you're in one piece and you have a delightful looking bruise on the side of your neck, I am going to assume that you…were successful.'

Draco's hand went involuntarily to the side of his neck before he remembered that Harry hadn't bitten his neck last night, as they had been too caught up in savaging each other's mouths to care about necks. He scowled. 'Cow,' he said, trying to regain his dignity by taking another mouthful of coffee. Unfortunately, it tasted bitter.

Pansy laughed delightedly. 'You'd think after all these years you'd know not to react to that one. Shows how out of practice you are, darling.'

Draco coloured, but lifted his chin. 'The plan is proceeding well, thank you.'

Pansy stopped laughing and gave Draco a calculating look. Then she nodded and returned to her coffee, chatting with Narcissa. From the look on his mother's face he hadn't heard that last of this; she was bound to try and stop him from his earlier plan.

'Where is Harry, anyway?' Pansy asked, but that was the last straw for Draco; he'd had a traumatic night, little sleep and the constant talk about Harry, and his own inability to stop thinking about Harry, had all taken its toll. He snapped.

"I have no idea where the bloody Golden Boy is, nor do I care. He's probably gone back to the ginger bits for all I know. For Merlin's sake, why is everything always about that bloody git?'

Which was, of course, perfect timing. Or not.

When he followed the pinched looks of Pansy and Narcissa, he saw a frowning Potter standing in the doorway, obviously having heard every word he'd said.


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** Not Mine

**Author's Notes:** This chapter is all 'awwwww', lol. Well, I think so anyway. Draco does a bit of growing up and there is a delightful kiss.

And the cookie for the review that made me smile last week goes to...** Mina Hikari **who said that both Harry and Draco were stupid in their own ways... so cookies to you my dear! *mwah*

Anyway, enjoy this chapter and love to you all.

jamie xxxx

oh, PS. Just wanted to add that I suck at replying to reviews, but I do read and appreciate every one of them. Maybe champagne this week for the one that makes me smile the most.

* * *

'Harry…' Draco started, moving to his feet in an instinctive need to draw Harry closer so he could explain.

'Don't worry, Draco,' Potter interrupted. 'I'm just here for breakfast.'

Draco blinked. 'All right,' he said warily and sat back down again. Very aware that Pansy and his mother were still in the room and hanging on every word and gesture he and Harry made, Draco refrained from engaging Harry in any in-depth conversations. They would have to wait for another time.

Harry sat down and told the elf what he'd like for breakfast, Pansy sipped her coffee and his mother finished the last of her big breakfast. Draco, on the other hand, could barely keep his eyes from Harry, trying to determine from an action or a facial gesture what his thoughts might be.

Contrary to what he'd always thought about Harry wearing his heart on his sleeve, the look on Harry's face now was inscrutable. Draco frowned, cursing Harry for not giving him any clues about how to behave. It was especially vexing as Draco had never before admitted to having a crush quite like the one he had on Harry. Some help in knowing how not to stuff it all up would have been appreciated.

'Good morning, Harry,' Narcissa said. Pansy echoed the sentiment, and Harry politely nodded to the ladies and gave them a smile.

'I hope you both enjoyed the dinner last night,' he said.

'We did, Harry, thank you.'

'Good, I'm glad,' he said, smiling at them in a way that made Draco's heart flutter just a fraction in jealousy because he was not its beneficiary. Maybe never would be again. 'Narcissa, you definitely look like you enjoyed yourself.' Harry grinned at her, and Draco saw the resultant blush stain his mother's cheeks. Harry was becoming entirely too good at playing the charming host. Draco had to admit it sat well on him though.

'Yes, well,' she began, 'I think I shall retire and freshen up. It wouldn't do to spend the whole day in my evening robes, now, would it?' She stood and moved to Draco, pressing a kiss to his temple. 'I'll let the caterers know about the extras for your party, dear.'

'Thank you, Mother,' Draco replied, giving her a smile. When he turned to look back at Harry, the shutters had fallen down over his eyes and Draco was at a loss to know what he was thinking again.

'Extras?' Pansy asked. 'Draco, I'm not sure that we have room for extras.'

'Pans, it's for Theo and a few other old school friends. I invited them last night. Theo was overly-grateful,' Draco said, answering Pansy but directing the answer to Harry in the hopes that he'd see that Theo snogging him was out of gratitude and not an actual come-on, even if Draco's plan had been to make Harry jealous.

'I'm sure he was,' Harry snorted.

'Oh, that's why he was eating your face, then?'

Draco groaned. Pansy was nothing if not blunt. 'Crudely put, but, yes: Theo was terribly grateful to be issued an invitation to the social event of the year. He was probably drunk and didn't realise what he was doing.' Again he directed his comment at Harry, but Harry nonchalantly continued with his breakfast and paid no attention to Draco at all.

'Although from the way _some_ people act, even if one is attacked with no provocation it still seems to be their fault. Doesn't seem very rational to blame the victim, now, does it, Pansy?'

Pansy switched her gaze several times between Draco and Harry and in the end sighed. 'I'll leave the two of you to sort it out, then. But you're both behaving like children and I don't know why I bother with ether of you.' She stood. 'Draco, you have a robe fitting at three this afternoon and then you have the day off. I am going to see if I can dig Blaise out from the rock he crawled under last night with that blonde thing in the white dress.'

'Blaise went home with Susan Bones?' Harry asked.

'That's her name? Huh.' Pansy frowned. 'Didn't we go to school with a Susan Bones?'

'Yes, she was in Hufflepuff.'

'Ah.' Pansy brightened. 'That would explain why I didn't know her name.' She wrinkled her nose. 'Why on earth would he go with a Hufflepuff?'

'Maybe he's grown up,' Harry replied.

Pansy gave him a long look, then shook her head. 'No, I don't think so. She looked very pretty last night and Blaise never could say no to a pretty girl.' She turned to Draco. 'You'll notice Blaise doesn't have calluses on his hands, darling.'

'You bitch,' Draco exclaimed, blushing when Harry laughed. It was the first really natural thing he'd done the whole morning. Draco scowled.

'Well if _someone_ wasn't such a prude, there'd be no need for my hands to develop calluses, would there?' It was silly and childish, but Harry's laugh had stung. And besides, there was a modicum of truth in it. Not that Draco had calluses but that Draco wouldn't need to wank if Harry stopped being so stubborn.

Draco stood. 'Suddenly the air in here feels frightfully stuffy. Pans, I'll show you to the door if you're leaving.'

He took her arm and before she could even say goodbye to Harry, he dragged her out the door.

'What is the matter with you?' she demanded as soon as they were out of earshot.

'Nothing. The sooner Potter and his Aurors find and catch whoever is trying to kill us and gets the hell out of my house the better.'

'Merlin, Draco, what happened last night?'

'Just the next step in the seduction plan, that's all,' Draco replied, not looking at her.

'That's not all. I can always tell when you're lying. Something happened last night - tell me what it was,' she demanded.

Draco sighed. 'He seems to be under the impression that before anything can happen between us I need to make some sort of commitment.'

'And? What's the problem with that?'

Draco looked at her as if she were mental. 'I am not planning on spending my life with him. What happened to use him and spit him out?'

'Draco, stop and think about it.' She sounded exasperated. 'If you are using him, why does it matter what you say to him to get him into your bed? The whole thing is a lie, isn't it?'

That was just the thing - it wasn't a lie any more and with that observation came the desire to tell Harry what he wanted to hear for all the right reasons, not the wrong ones. After the outburst Harry'd just heard, it was unlikely Draco would get the chance to say what he wanted to say. Not any time soon, anyway.

He nodded at Pansy, just wanting her to go in case he blurted out the truth. He wasn't ready for anyone to hear that yet. If ever. And especially not until Harry knew.

Before he could do that, though, he needed to find a way to apologise to Harry without the conversation descending into a fight, verbal or physical – no matter how tempting that was to Draco's libido. For as long as he'd known Harry they'd had trouble communicating, and every imagined slight or off-putting comment sent them straight back to behaving like school children.

It was time for a different approach.

Which was all very well, but when he returned to the breakfast room after saying goodbye to Pansy, Harry had already left.

'Pippy!' he called.

The house-elf popped up beside him. 'Yes, Master Draco?'

'Did Harry tell you where he was going?'

'Harry Potter is informing Pippy that he is to be visiting friends and will return in time to escort you to your appointment.'

Draco pursed his lips, bothered that his apology plans had been thwarted so neatly. It was almost like Harry was avoiding him. Previously, Harry had been happy enough to stay close to the Manor during the times Draco had no official appointments. Not that Draco blamed Harry for escaping the Manor after hearing Draco's petty insults, as he'd done this morning.

'Tell Mister Potter that I will meet him in the entry hall at ten minutes to three this afternoon for him to accompany me to the tailor.'

'Yes, Master.' The elf bowed and left the room.

With nothing productive to occupy his time, Draco wandered through the Ballroom to check how the decorations for his birthday were proceeding. But after watching the workers scurrying around building this and painting that, he decided that they didn't need his help anyway and, restless, headed back to his room to examine what he'd been trying to put off all day.

Taking a bath had always helped him think in the past, so he ran the water and added his favourite oils, letting their aroma surround him and settle his restlessness. When the water was ready, he undressed and stepped into the bath, sitting down and absorbing the warmth of the water through his skin. It settled the final vestiges of anxiety and he sighed in relief.

Several minutes later, after having done nothing more than clear his mind, Draco fell asleep, the relaxation of the water finally enabling him to rest.

He was awoken some time later by the noise of Pippy Apparating into the room.

'What is it, Pippy?' Draco blearily looked around, finding himself still cocooned in the charmed warmth of the bath. He was thankful for the warming charm on the water, without it he'd be shivering with cold alongside looking as wrinkled as a prune.

'Master, Pippy is thinking that you is to be getting out of the bath now, sir. You is getting all wrinkled.'

'Thank you, Pippy. What time is it?' he asked as he dragged himself from the bath and then wrapped himself in a warm fluffy towel.

'It is being nearly two in the afternoon. Will Master require lunch before his appointment?'

'I don't think so, Pippy; I had rather large, late breakfast. I believe that will be adequate until I return home. Has Harry arrived home yet?'

'Very well, Master. Yes, Mister Harry Potter is in his room, sir.'

'Good. Thank you, Pippy, that will be all.' Once dressed he would go and sort this thing out with Harry once and for all.

'Master?'

'Yes, what is it?' He looked at the elf and noticed the glint of mischief in his eye. This was becoming a regular occurrence. Draco wasn't sure that he liked the elves becoming this forward.

'Pippy is thinking, Master, that we is preparing lunch in case there is any walls crashed into.'

Draco frowned. Was everyone going to mock his love life? Pippy was becoming decidedly too familiar, no matter how long he'd been with the family. 'Ironing your hands ought to remind you of your place,' he warned.

'Yes, Master.' Pippy bowed, looking mightily pleased with himself.

Draco shook his head and sighed. Bloody conscience wouldn't let him do that any more either. What was happening to him? Had the spell been laced with Hufflepuff genes as punishment or something?

'Oh, go on with you. No punishment; you like it too much,' Draco huffed. Bloody cheeky elf.

When the elf left, Draco dried off carefully and dressed casually, before walking down the hall to Harry's room. Still Draco had no idea what to say to Harry, but he knew he needed to be genuine for his apology to mean anything.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door.

Several moments later, Harry opened the door and the first thing Draco noticed was that Harry truly was beautiful. Even with a swollen lip from last night. Still. Before it had been Harry's eyes that made Draco forget to think, now it seemed to be the set to his jaw and the firm curve of his lips as well. The sight halted the words in Draco's mouth and he just stood there, staring, for long moments until he registered the hard look in Harry's eyes.

'Harry,' he croaked.

'Draco. Come to insult me again? I have to admit that you've had better insults.' Harry folded his arms and leaned on the doorframe.

'No, I came to apologise, actually.'

Even the look of disbelief on Harry's face was beautiful, Draco decided. 'It's true. I have no excuses for what you heard this morning, other than I'd spent a rather sleepless night, where all I'd been able to do was think of you. I was confused. I just wanted to stop thinking about you for a minute. Then Pansy asked where you were and I snapped. I apologise.'

'You can't keep doing this, Draco,' Harry said. 'In one breath you tell me how much you want me and then the next you're insulting me and treating me like you hate me. No wonder I have no fucking idea what I want from you.'

Draco stepped closer, not trying to crowd Harry, more to help foster the sense of closeness, of a shared desire to work things out. Harry's face was still hard, shut down, and gave Draco no clue as to how he was feeling, but he didn't step back from Draco. That was encouraging at least.

'So, where do we go from here, then? Is there anywhere to go?' Draco didn't want to ask the question, but it needed to be asked. Even if it did come out sounding hoarse.

Harry shrugged.

Draco felt his insides shrivel up in knots. 'I'm too much hard work, is that it?' Draco wanted to sink through the floor in grief, while at the same time wanting to smack Harry round the head for being such an arse. At least his voice had regained its strength; although perhaps too much, as he sounded bitter. 'So, the great Harry Potter finds himself no match for Draco Malfoy?' Draco gave a bitter laugh. 'So, I finally beat you at something –'

'Draco, stop it.' Harry unfolded his arms and grabbed Draco by the wrist. For a moment the old anger flared up and Draco tried to wrench his wrist clear, but Harry had too strong a grip and refused to let him free.

Instead, Harry dragged him inside and shut the door. 'Go and sit down and we'll talk about this.' Harry pushed Draco into a chair by the window and then sat on the bed. 'I never said there wasn't anywhere to go; I just…' Harry ran his hands through his hair, evidence of some discomfort, and Draco suddenly wanted to hug him instead of smack him. 'We just…rub each other up the wrong way all the time and while I have admitted I'm attracted to you, I don't want to be with someone in a relationship where we spend all our time fighting. I want peace sometimes, too, Draco.'

'And you think I don't?'

Harry gave him a wry smile. 'I get the impression that your peace and mine are two different things.'

'Tell me about your peace, then,' Draco said quietly. He could do this; he could take a step back from living on the edge of arousal each time he and Harry fought, to find out about what else Harry liked. And who knew, maybe there were things about Harry's peace that would do things to him, too, just the same.

Harry looked at Draco for several long moments; long enough that Draco felt a frisson of fear: what if Harry didn't want to tell him things like that? But then he smiled and leaned forward; taking Draco's hand in his.

'My peace includes things like being able to compliment you on how you look without your eyes stripping and devouring me like a morsel of food.'

'But–' Draco began.

'Like now,' Harry continued. 'I want to tell you how nice you look.'

'I'm not sure I can control my reactions to your compliments.' Draco frowned.

'But you get compliments all the time from hundreds of people a day.'

'They're not you, are they?' Draco tried to pull his hand free of Harry's and deliberately wouldn't look at him.

'And part of my peace is being able to tell you that your fingers are all wrinkly without you biting my head off and storming off in a snit.'

Draco looked up at Harry, not understanding. 'You…what?'

'You hands, look. They're wrinkly.'

Draco looked down at his own hands in horror. How had he forgotten that they were still all prune-like from the bath? He really tried to pull his hands free, but Harry refused to let them go. 'I fell asleep in the bath,' Draco said, feeling his cheeks heat with embarrassment.

Harry didn't say anything. When Draco ventured looking up, he saw that the inscrutable face was clearing and there was something resembling amused fondness in Harry's expression instead. His face heated even more.

'Part of my peace is to be able to share these little human frailties with you. To know that you won't mock me for mine and to appreciate you sharing yours with me.'

'How do we do that, Harry? The things that have defined our previous relationship have all been about hiding weaknesses; not letting one get the better of the other at any cost.'

'Hence our confusion, don't you think? We've operated under the impression that the only way to make our mark, to mean something to each other, is by having to use force and conflict.'

'And now you want fluffy Hufflebunnies?' Draco tried to lighten the conversation somewhat because of course Harry was right. There was no balance that way. They'd end up hating each other in a very real and violent sense. It would be unhealthy.

Harry laughed and rubbed his thumbs over Draco's knuckles. 'I don't think either of us are built like that.'

'I keep telling you I'm not here to make things easy on you.'

'I don't think you'd intrigue me half as much if you were. I like you feisty; I like that spark of passion I see in your eyes when you look at me. When I see that, I want to ravish you and sod everything else.'

Draco's heart stuttered and stopped for a second.

'But I need the other, too. I need the honest, deep regard, concern for me and my feelings. I need you to like me as a person as well as want me as a lover. Do you understand?'

Draco nodded. 'And what about what I need?' He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth as they sounded like they were coming from spoiled-brat Draco and not a man struggling to redefine how he interacted with someone immensely important to him. But Harry only smiled.

'What do you need?'

Faced with a direct question like that, Draco had no answer. 'Well…I don't know,' he said helplessly. 'I don't really have many healthy, committed relationships to base my opinions on. I don't know how these things are supposed to work.' It was hard even revealing this much about himself, Draco discovered. It was all well and good to hide any insecurities behind seduction and lust, but…

'I've seen you with your friends and you are committed to them and their happiness. As much as you pretend otherwise, you care a lot about Blaise. I've seen your regard for Pansy and how much you love her. And your mother. What do you need from them in return?'

'Not sex.' Draco laughed.

'Why does everything come back to sex with you?' Harry asked, exasperated.

Draco sighed. He was getting everything wrong here. He tried again. 'I want…I need to know that I'm with someone who won't up and leave me if I do or say something wrong.' Draco frowned, feeling the revelations leaving him on the precipice of something painful and vulnerable. 'I need to be able to trust that you won't mock me if I don't conform to what you want exactly.' He looked at Harry, lost; feeling like he was about to do the usual and fuck everything up. Again. 'I told you, I'm not an easy person to love, Harry.' Damn. Where the fuck had his confidence gone?

'Might be easier than you think,' Harry mumbled, but then continued before Draco really had time to register what he'd said. 'That wasn't so hard, was it?'

'Not for you, maybe,' Draco replied. 'I generally don't expose myself to ridicule like this.'

Harry sighed. 'You can trust me.'

Harry removed his hand from Draco's and cupped Draco's chin. His hand was warm and slightly rough, but to Draco it felt like a promise of something he could believe in. For long moments Draco struggled, captured by the honesty in Harry's eyes as much as by his hands. If he couldn't trust Harry now, when would he be able to? Stepping from his safety net into unknown and unchartered waters was frightening. Draco's heart was thumping loudly in anxiety, and not only because he was being asked to trust someone he used to hate, but also because Harry was so close and Draco was rapidly losing himself in his eyes.

He nodded. 'I can only try, Harry. I'm bound to stuff things up.' If Draco's teeth could have started to chatter, he was sure they would have. Any second he expected the wrath of the gods to come and smite him for daring to say he'd trust someone else. His father had taught him never to expose himself to anyone, for any reason. Maintain complete and cool dignity at all times.

'Don't worry; I'm no expert, either.' Harry sat back on the bed and drew Draco to sit beside him. A warm arm draped around Draco's shoulder and he was nestled in against Harry's side. It was not uncomfortable. In fact, he appreciated the solid sense of the body beside him and the safety and protection it offered. He relaxed into Harry's side, for once, letting himself have no expectations, no strategy, no plans; he just relaxed and let the tension slide away from him.

Harry continued talking and Draco let his voice wash over him; it's deep tones humming along Draco's tired thoughts. 'Can you understand why I'm confused about being attracted to you?'

'Well, no, frankly,' Draco replied, laughing softly. 'I'm gorgeous, everyone is attracted to me.'

Harry squeezed his shoulder. 'Prat, I'm being serious.'

'So am I,' Draco began, still teasing. 'Oh, all right. I was thinking about what you said and I wondered how I'd feel if I was suddenly attracted to Granger. Now I'm wondering why you don't ship yourself off to St. Mungo's every time you think of me. I was almost violently ill.'

'Hey! She's one of my best friends.'

'Harry, she's a _girl_.'

'Oh.' Harry chuckled. 'Well, that's all right then.'

'Does this mean I am going to have to be nice to your friends? A whole horde of Gryffindors?'

'Yes. And Hufflebunnies and maybe even a few Ravenclaws.'

'Like Lovegood? I'm already nice to her. We went to her opening.'

'Hm, so we did. And I distinctly remember telling you no gay stuff.'

Draco smiled and buried his face in Harry's neck, inhaling that indefinable scent that he hoped to become incredibly familiar with soon. He seductively let his tongue trace a vein along the side of Harry's neck and heard the short intake of breath as he allowed the taste to blossom through his system. 'I am just too irresistible,' he said, pulling back and looking up into Harry's face.

'You might be at that,' Harry murmured.

He lowered his lips to Draco's and peace settled deeper into Draco's bones. Different from the violent kisses of the previous night, this kiss was slow and solemn, as if acting as a salve to heal past wounds and promising a new start. While Draco would always be turned on by the ferociousness of the power with which they clashed, he found that this kiss, too, with its gentle, thorough melding of firm lips and warm breath, had its own charm that made even his blood sing.

Draco sank into the kiss, his hand winding into Harry's hair, the strands feeling softer and silkier now that he was kissing Harry and not fixing the mess. He opened his eyes as Harry's tongue pressed inside his mouth; he could see each one of Harry's lashes, long and curled at the ends. Harry kissed with his eyes closed, those pretty lashes fluttering against his cheeks. Strangely, Draco was glad he didn't have to deal with the intensity of Harry's eyes holding him captive. His heart was already pounding and if Harry could see right through him while looking deeply into his eyes, Draco thought he might break completely.

The soft snick of their tongues and lips meeting was overlaid by a quickly inhaled breath and a softly exhaled moan and Draco thought he'd never heard anything more erotic in his life. Harry pulled him closer, cupped Draco's chin in his hand and deepened the kiss until Draco felt his body tingling all over. Harry was kissing him like a lover and Draco was captivated by it. Never before had Draco kissed anyone just because he liked the feel of their mouth against his but the tender, reverent feel of the way Harry worshipped his lips felt better than anything he'd ever experienced. This feeling of being cherished buried deeply into Draco's heart and he felt most of his reservations dissolve under the onslaught.

He was well and truly fucked, he told himself.


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** Not Mine.

**Author's Notes:** Thanks guys for all the wonderful reviews. So nice to see that you appreciated the 'aww' factor in the last chapter. Similar in this one, though it does earn it's adult rating, so be warned. If you're not old enough to be reading it then...don't get caught. :P There will possibly be another 4 chapters - this is the last aww one, then we head in for some angst before a happy type ending.

Much love to you all and enjoy

jamie

xxxxx

* * *

The weeks leading up to Draco's birthday Ball were some of the happiest Draco could remember. After reconciling with Harry and agreeing to virtual celibacy – in Draco's opinion anyway; Harry decided that snogging and the occasional mutual wanking session were sufficient activities to be going on with – Draco found that he really quite enjoyed getting to know the real Harry Potter.

Harry really was what he purported to be: safe and steady and strong. And, as Draco lamented most nights as he took himself and his arousal into his own hands, too bloody gorgeous to be sleeping alone every night. Sometimes Draco provoked arguments; he still found it ridiculously easy to wind Harry up. He accepted they would always have that effect on each other and he wouldn't change it for the world. The times Harry was angry with him were the times that he was most likely to forget his desire to take things slowly, and Draco would find himself slammed against a wall and brutally ravished. He loved every second of it and relived it in his fantasies at night.

They still frequented nightclubs for the dancing. Only when they took to the dance floor there wasn't much dancing being done. Unless snogging your boyfriend while grinding into his leg counted as dancing. And each time they left, Draco knew with a certainty that Harry was leaving with a hard-on threatening to split his trousers. Some nights Draco would offer to take care of it for him. Some nights Harry would accept and Draco would drop to his knees as soon as they reached the safety of the bedroom, and take Harry's cock so far in that when Harry came, he didn't even taste it; it just spurted straight down his throat, threatening to choke him. Some nights Harry would refuse, but Draco would sneak into Harry's bedroom and listen at the bathroom door, vigorously palming himself through his clothes while he heard Harry wanking just as furiously behind the door. Draco always thought it was a waste of an opportunity to get Harry's cock in his mouth - _oh, how he loved the feel of that heavy, hard length filling his mouth_ - but he'd promised not to rush or force things and so he let Harry deal with those nights alone.

But to his delight, he also found himself enjoying the warm blanket of Harry's arms around him, settling him in a peaceful haze of comfort and security. After a long day of interviews and fittings and meetings and so many _people_ relentlessly after Draco's attention, it was heaven to be able to relax into Harry's undemanding arms and rest.

Draco was finding what his peace was.

He found his peace in arriving for breakfast to see Harry's hair looking like the pillow had attacked it during the night. Draco wished he could be the pillow Harry rested his weary head on.

He also found it in Harry holding his hand in public; declaring to the world that they were together. In the past, Draco had felt that Harry should be the one showering gratitude on Draco for the attention. Now, he felt undeniable happiness that Harry was choosing him, Draco Malfoy, to be with.

It was seeing the little glances Harry flicked at him when he was worried Draco was tiring from their busy schedule – which had only become busier since the revelation of their relationship in the newspapers. Draco felt cared for.

It was seeing the pleasure and desire deep in Harry's eyes when he looked at him. Draco had always taken admiration as his due, but now, under Harry's regard he was glad he could make Harry look so happy.

It was in a hundred other things Draco discovered that went to make up the Chosen One, and he found he liked them all.

And consequently, his mother, Pansy and Blaise all noticed how much happier Draco was and tried in their own ways to get him to give up on his plan. Which he had done, but wasn't prepared to admit it just yet, carrying an irrational fear that should he admit to his feelings about Harry, it would all fall down around him.

His mother was the most subtle, for which Draco was grateful. She merely smiled at him and wondered what Harry might like for his birthday, which was several weeks after Draco's Ball. Draco was extremely thankful for his mother not pressing, but letting him know in her own way that she knew Draco had fallen for the Chosen One.

He kissed his mother's cheek. 'I think Harry will be happy with whatever you choose, Mother, you have impeccable taste.'

She smiled at him and patted his cheek. 'I'm sure I'll find the perfect thing. I'll have to seeing as he makes you so happy.'

Draco blushed lightly and turned away. 'Thank you, Mother.'

'You're welcome.'

'Perhaps I should be asking when Hortin's birthday is.' Draco smiled at her.

'I'm sure I don't know,' she replied ingenuously. Draco laughed.

'I'll ask him myself, then. If he makes my mother happy, then I suppose I need to welcome him to the family appropriately.'

'Be nice,' she warned.

'I always am,' Draco retorted.

…

Pansy and Blaise were more direct. Blaise wondered whether the press would be bad when he broke up with the Golden Boy and was he sure it was worth the bad publicity? Why didn't he just stay with Harry?

Pansy was blunt. As if Draco expected anything different. And while he knew that they'd both be in favour of this relationship, he still couldn't bring himself to admit to anyone else that he'd been wrong. Consequently, Pansy would say things like, 'You're an arse if you let him get away,' and 'I can see through your mask, darling,' and 'as much as I love you, Draco, you are going to have to grow a pair at some point and admit you've fallen for him.'

Draco refused to answer her; he neither confirmed nor denied anything. It frustrated Pansy to such an extent that Draco carried the bruises on his arms for days from where she'd whacked him.

…

The investigation into who had attacked them took an interesting twist just the day before Draco's party.

'Ron wants to speak with us about the investigation,' Harry said as he walked into the lounge room. Ron followed Harry, and Draco smiled at both of them. He'd been relaxing in the early sun, reading on a precious day off.

He'd never admit it but Draco appreciated the time off these days. Mere months ago he'd have been shocked to find himself enjoying time out of the limelight, away from his hordes of fans, but in the past few weeks, he'd come to value the time he and Harry spent together, preferring the attention of one Harry Potter to his thousands of fans or strangers. Not that he'd give up his celebrity, not for anything. No, being admired and loved by everyone was still his aim. But he did enjoy his time off.

'I gather by the look on your face that you have some good news,' Draco said.

Ron looked positively smug. Harry sat down beside Draco and rested his hand warmly on Draco's thigh. Ron rolled his eyes when he saw Harry's action but Draco didn't mind. By now he was used to Ron's manner.

'I do and it's all due to the comment you made the other week at the Dinner.'

'The one about Madam Malkin?'

'That's the one.' Ron took a seat opposite them and leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees. 'We did some discreet investigating but couldn't find anything to incriminate her. There had been some overseas travel but that was easily explained as buying trips for the season's new fashions.'

Draco was puzzled; he really didn't think Madam Malkin had anything to do with the attacks, so where Ron was going with his story was a mystery.

'Hang on,' Harry interrupted. 'What's all this about Madam Malkin?'

Draco turned to him. 'Remember the day you stood up for me when she wanted to serve you first even though I had been waiting?'

'Ah, yes, I do remember that. Caught you looking at ladies lingerie afterwards.' Harry grinned at Draco and squeezed his thigh.

Draco scowled playfully. 'Just for that I will not be dressing up in any ladies sexy bits to satisfy your curiosity.'

'Too much information,' Ron cried out, laughing. 'I really don't want to know what you two get up to in private.'

Draco laughed as he saw Harry blushing. That was interesting; perhaps Harry really would like to see him in some lacy, frilly underthings. Maybe doing a long seductive striptease for him. That could be arranged. Definitely. Draco did like pretty things, after all.

Harry called Ron to continue, still blushing. He was adorable when he blushed.

'We thought we'd have to let it go as there was no solid evidence of her involvement, just your speculation about her motive and a vague idea that if the potion came from overseas then she had the means to obtain it.'

'So, what happened?' Draco asked. 'I assume something did or there'd be no point to this story.'

'We sent someone to her shop, undercover. Found an Auror directly out of the Academy. Dimity Harris. Good family, pure-blood. She'd never been into the shop apart from buying school uniforms. Madam Malkin didn't know she had recently been sworn in as an Auror. Harris started a conversation in which she voiced some derogatory opinions about both of you, hoping Madam Malkin might incriminate herself.'

Draco frowned. 'And did she?'

'She mentioned that you possibly deserved what happened to you,' Ron said, looking at Draco.

'Stupid cow,' Draco muttered.

'And she said that Harry wasn't all he was cracked up to be and that one day his choices would bite him on the arse. Especially if he kept up with the 'Death Eater' scum, as she called you.'

'Well, that's pretty tame, really,' Draco said thoughtfully. 'She's been known for toadying up to her clients, saying what they want to hear. I don't believe she actually meant that stuff about Harry. Though I can believe the Death Eater bit.'

'Be that as it may,' Ron said. 'The fact that she said it about Harry was enough to get us authority to search her premises and guess what we found when we searched her workroom?'

'The same poison that was used to try and kill me?' Draco asked, knowing the answer already.

Ron nodded. 'That's right.'

'She could've had that there for any number of reasons,' Harry said.

Ron shook his head. 'It's not a common poison, Harry; you found that out yourself. What are the chances of two people having it?'

'I don't know,' Harry said, shaking his head. 'It just doesn't feel right, though. What happened doesn't seem like motive to kill both of us.'

'Robards disagrees. He reckons we've got the right person. Especially seeing as when she was asked why she had the poison she couldn't give a believable answer.'

'She was probably all flustered by being accused of attempted murder,' Draco said, even though he shouldn't be feeling quite so charitable toward someone who had treated him so shabbily. Perhaps she deserved being thrown in a cell and interrogated by Aurors. Maybe then she might learn to treat people with respect in future. He still wasn't convinced that she was guilty, even though he couldn't put a finger on why, but if the Aurors did, then he'd have to take their word for it.

'And didn't the waiter at the restaurant say it was a male?' Harry asked. Draco had forgotten that but now realised that was probably why he'd not taken the suggestion of Madam Malkin being the villain seriously. It was supposed to be a man.

'And no criminal ever used Polyjuice potion?'

Ron had a point. There was no way of telling exactly who it had been at the restaurant with any certainty.

Draco exhaled and allowed himself to believe it might be all over.

'Well, that's good news, I suppose,' Harry said slowly. Draco looked at him, wondering why he still seemed doubtful. 'What will happen now?'

'Well, you'll be expected back at work once Draco's party is over with. The security on both of you and the Manor will be scaled down after the party tomorrow and things can return to normal.'

Draco's eyes met Harry's and he understood then why Harry's relief at catching the culprit was so reserved. The look in Harry's eyes made it clear he was worried about where their relationship would go from here. Once there was no security, there would be no need for Harry to live at the Manor. Draco smiled and leaned over to kiss him gently on the lips. Harry was his now, and there was no way Draco was going to let him get away. Harry could continue living in the Manor for as long as he wanted. Draco hoped sooner rather than later his nights would be spent in Draco's bed with Draco and not in the spare room.

'As long as you stay with me in the Manor, I don't care what the security does.'

'You want me to stay? I have my own place.'

'Of course I want you to stay. Keep your own place if you like.' He grinned. 'The way we argue, I'm sure sooner or later you'll storm out in a huff and I won't see you for days.'

Harry laughed and returned the kiss. 'I can virtually guarantee it.'

'If you two are going to get all kissy-face then I'm leaving,' Ron said.

'No need to run away, Ron,' Draco said, keeping his eyes only for Harry. 'You might learn something that'll help you with Granger.'

He turned to look at Ron – who blushed madly - and laughed. 'You could just ask her out, you know. She's been throwing you hints for years. People already think you're together anyway; you're always seen together at functions and things.'

'We bicker all the time, though. Half the time we can barely stay friends. I'm sure you're mistaken.'

'You think Harry and I are mistaken? The way we fight?'

'You two are just mental.' Ron rolled his eyes but he was grinning bashfully, now.

'Draco's the mental one,' Harry said, pinching Draco's waist.

Draco thumped his arm playfully. 'Now we know who starts these fights. Bully.' He turned to Ron. 'I'm serious. It's all that unresolved sexual tension.'

'Tension of one sort or other anyway,' Harry added. 'I used to have to listen to him wanking over her all through Auror school.'

'Too much information,' Draco groaned, covering his ears.

'Thanks, mate,' Ron replied, blushing so hard he lost his freckles.

'You're going to give me nightmares now, Harry,' Draco complained. 'I expect you to come to my bed and soothe my frightened…body.'

Harry laughed. 'Always angling for something more.'

'Of course.' There was no rule against trying, was there? Draco smirked before turning back to Ron. 'You can never beat asking a direct question, you know.'

'This coming from someone as devious as you?' Harry joked.

'I'll have you know that asking a direct question is a very sound tactic. It's the element of surprise that gets you more truth than if you pussy foot around and waffle over every little thing.'

'Did you just say pussy foot and waffle?' Harry roared in laughter, making Draco scowl.

'Oh…you…' Draco stood. 'At least I'm not a four-eyed git with a messiah complex,' he snapped and stalked from the room. So much for not laughing at him when he let his guard down. Bloody twat.

Harry caught up with him and they made up, of course. He told Draco he was being too sensitive and Draco tried to argue back, but Harry almost suffocated him with his mouth instead. After that, Draco didn't say a word; he was too busy trying to reassemble his brain. Make-up snogging was always staggering, and Draco's knees never failed to weaken when being kissed to within an inch of his life by Harry.

There was something to be said for being too sensitive.

….

The day of Draco's birth dawned sunny and bright with early summer sunshine. The birds were twittering so loudly outside Draco's window, he wanted to throw something at them. However, when he remembered it was his birthday, he smiled instead and rolled onto his back, stretching out so that his spine clicked.

As was tradition, except for the years at Hogwarts, he would be having breakfast in bed and then there would be gifts downstairs in the lounge. He called Pippy and ordered breakfast, then languished comfortably in bed, idly stroking his morning erection. And thinking of Harry with a little sigh of wistfulness. There'd be no better birthday present than Harry in his bed, he thought. After nearly a month of being together, Draco wondered how much longer he was going to have to wait. He wasn't a particularly patient man, and he'd surprised himself by how well he'd taken to having a boyfriend he didn't have sex with, but the need to be fucked was eating away at him and he hoped that he'd not have to wait too much longer.

Pippy arrived with his birthday breakfast of bacon and eggs, juice and coffee. An envelope addressed to him sat by his juice on the tray. Draco smiled. For as long as he could remember, his mother had sent him a happy birthday greeting first thing in the morning. It always made him smile to know that she cared that much about him to want to be the first to wish him happy birthday.

Balancing the tray on his lap, he opened the envelope and read the contents. A warm feeling grew in his chest when he read his mother's words of love, her wishing nothing more than his happiness and her pride in having such a wonderful son. Even through all the rough years they'd had, she never failed to find the words to make Draco feel worthy of being her son. It made him love her even more and determined to never let her down.

A knock on the door made him look up. 'Yes?' he called.

The door opened and Harry's head appeared. 'May I come in?'

'Of course,' Draco said, smiling brightly. Perhaps he could persuade Harry to take care of the morning erection that was still sitting heavy in his lap. It was his birthday after all; he deserved something.

His cock twitched in an eager reminder of what it needed when Harry walked into the room. Apparently he slept like Draco, wearing only pyjama pants, which hung unevenly low on his hips, like he'd forgotten to pull them up all the way. When he walked, the pants threatened to slide down completely. Fuck, Draco thought as his eyes raked over Harry's chest, he was like one of Draco's fantasies. Not having sex with this was a complete waste, Draco lamented. Again. Draco blamed the lack of sex for his obsession with it.

He took a deep breath and belatedly noticed that Harry was carrying a small gift. And wore an adorably awkward look on his face.

'Happy Birthday, Draco,' he said. He sat on the edge of the bed and held the gift out.

Draco held his lips up for a kiss, and Harry dutifully kissed him deeply for several moments until a whimper was drawn from Draco's throat.

'Are you all right?' Harry asked, pulling back.

'No, I'm not,' he replied.

'What's wrong?' Harry's immediate concern gave Draco a twinge of conscience at making him worry over nothing more than an erection badly in need of assistance.

'You, damn you,' Draco said, opting for honesty. 'You're the subject of all of my fantasies, you walk in here looking like one of my wet dreams when I still have a morning erection and then you kiss me like that! I'm _aching_ here, Harry,' he whined.

Harry blushed but his face cleared of worry and his eyes widened in pleasure. Harry was going to be the death of him; Draco just knew it. There was only so much he could take.

'I'm sorry. Should I leave, then?' Harry asked, recovering.

'No, you can bloody well watch me,' Draco growled, moving the tray from his lap to the side of the bed and shoving the bed covers down to his knees. Harry didn't move but Draco didn't care anymore. He needed to come too badly to be worried about what Harry was doing now. He lifted his hips slightly to drag his pyjama pants down past his hips, freeing his throbbing erection which looked eager to be held and stroked.

Ignoring Harry's gasp, Draco closed his eyes and wrapped a hand around his cock, almost whimpering in relief. 'This is what you do to me, Harry. Every fucking time you kiss me or look at me.'

He could hear Harry's breathing, uneven over his own short inhalations. Draco had not displayed himself to Harry before, any previous wanking done under decorous amounts of clothing, and the knowledge that he was obviously affected made Draco spread his legs and slide down into the bed more. He had the room to stretch and arch his back, making a better show.

Draco opened his eyes to see Harry's reactions to watching him wank. Harry's face was flushed, with eyes riveted to Draco's groin, watching Draco's hand stroking up and down, watching his thumb linger over the slit in the head. Seeing how it affected Harry made every stroke that much more laden with meaning.

'You could always help out here, you know. It is my birthday.' Even though he was trying to tease, his voice came out uneven from the rough strokes and the way his hips were rocking in time with his hand movements.

'I-I…well, yes I could.' Despite the hesitation in his tone, Harry looked determined.

'It's just like wanking yourself, Harry,' Draco encouraged. 'But hurry up. You look so damned good I'm not going to last much longer.' Draco arched his back involuntarily and groaned as his arousal stepped up a notch.

'No, I–'

'Fine,' Draco growled. 'I'll do it myself.' Fuck where was this legendary bravery he'd heard about? What good was Harry if he was too squeamish to even give Draco a handjob? Was any sex they might manage to have need to be in the dark and fully clothed?

A hand closed around the one stroking Draco's cock and he stopped, looking at Harry.

Always an intense green, Harry's eyes were dark with desire. A fiery need blazed brightly in them. 'I meant,' he said, repositioning himself on the bed. 'That I'd rather suck this beautiful cock instead.'

Draco was too stunned to comment. Harry licked his lips, looked doubtful for barely a second, then he resolutely leaned forward and traced the length of Draco's cock with his tongue.

_Fuck._ Harry's tongue left a trail of fire burning from the base right to the tip, and Draco could do nothing but drop his head back and let his body talk for him.

'Tell me if I do it wrong?' Harry asked. Draco looked up to see the hint of anxiety in Harry's expression.

'You can't do too much wrong as long as you don't use your teeth,' he replied hoarsely.

'I know that much from Gi– being on the receiving end.' Harry grinned and lowered his head again to Draco's cock, taking just the head into his mouth. It was enough for Draco to groan at the warmth and want to thrust deeply, but he held still, not quite believing that his was the first cock Harry had ever tasted.

Harry might be inexperienced and slightly hesitant about trying different techniques, but Draco felt it every time Harry's tongue slid along his cock, every time teeth scraped gently over the sensitive places that made him gasp in pleasure or wince at the slight pain.

'Yes, Harry…just like that.' Draco voiced his approval as Harry's tongue rubbed over the head of his cock, sending shivers up Draco's spine.

Draco allowed himself to slip his hands through Harry's silky, albeit messy, bed hair, though he couldn't keep watching his cock slip between Harry's wet warm lips. It was too intense, and made him want to fuck Harry's mouth relentlessly until he came; but Harry wasn't ready for that. Instead, he satisfied himself with feeling every small movement of Harry's head though his hands. He tried to focus on just how wonderful it felt to have his cock in Harry's mouth; how each time Harry's tongue rubbed over a sensitive spot, Draco felt the thrill shoot right to his toes and back deep in his groin.

It didn't matter that occasionally Harry's teeth scraped a fraction too hard, or that barely three inches of his cock was being sucked on, surrendering to Harry's mouth made it all the more arousing and Draco knew that he wasn't going to last long.

The gentle touch of a hand on his balls sent Draco soaring and caused his hips to lift off the bed. Harry was fondling his balls and sucking hard on his cock. In his fantasies, Harry had done just this but the reality of it was so much better. Everything became hazy after that, and Draco barely had time to breathlessly warn Harry and pull his cock free of Harry's mouth, before his whole body seized and he came all over his stomach.

When he could finally open his eyes, he saw Harry still lying on the bed beside him, looking rather smug. And beautiful with a mouth that looked like it had been well and truly fucked.

'Happy birthday to me,' Draco breathed. 'You sure you've never given a blowjob before?'

'Nope.' Harry grinned. 'Well, I mean, yes, I'm sure I've never done that before.'

Draco sighed. 'Another thing the bloody Chosen One is brilliant at,' he grumbled, too satiated to be really disgruntled about it. Besides, Harry was his now so he would be the one benefiting from that excellent skill.

Harry laughed. 'I think I just had good material to work with.'

'Of course,' Draco preened and then laughed along with Harry.

'And one day I will learn how to take you all the way in like you do for me.'

'Oh?' Draco was pleased about that. Not because he expected Harry to be able to deep throat him - not everyone could - but because Harry wanted to learn to do it.

'Yeah.' Harry nodded. 'Can't let you do something better than me, now, can I?'

'Merlin forbid I be better than you at something, Harry,' Draco said. He was smiling, though. 'Anyway, it's my birthday and I thank you for my present; it was wonderful.'

'You're welcome.'

'What made you want to do that? Just because it was my birthday?'

'No, you're just that damned irresistible, and when you decided to wank right in front of me, I knew I had to do something.' Harry grinned and pushed the hair back from Draco's forehead, making Draco want to nuzzle into his hand. 'You've been so good about waiting, too, and I realise how hard it must be for you.'

Harry was going to be a snuggler after sex; Draco just knew it.

And that was quite all right with him.

'Here,' Harry said. 'You forgot to open your present.'

'I think I've already received my present,' he replied, but he sat up and took the small gift from Harry's hand and unwrapped it, eager to see what Harry had bought him.

When he removed the item from layers of soft tissue, it appeared to be a plain silver band for his wrist. It was beautiful, but seemed an odd gift.

'It's beautiful, Harry, thank you,' he said, leaning over and kissing Harry firmly. He slid the band over his hand onto his wrist and it immediately tightened to fit properly. Draco thought it suited him and he held his arm out looking at it from different angles.

'It actually has a dual purpose,' Harry said. Harry held out his own arm, showing a matching silver band on his wrist. 'It's a variation on a mood bracelet that Muggles have. What this one does is sense your mood. It's spelled to transfer any feelings of things like fear, danger, and persecution, that type of thing, to my bracelet so I'll know if you're ever in any danger.'

Draco ran his fingers over the band suddenly extremely thankful he'd taken the time to sort things out with Harry. 'You did this for me?'

Harry nodded, smiling. 'Of course. I'm not about to let anything bad happen to you now I've found you. They're not that hard to make, actually. This will heat up and warn me,' he said, indicating his own band. 'Hermione made something similar in fifth year as a communication device. This is just a variation of that.'

'You weren't tempted to add in feelings of lust and arousal?' Draco asked cheekily.

'No, they're private,' Harry said, shifting to take Draco into his arms. 'Besides, I know you're always thinking about sex anyway.'

Harry laughed, and Draco punched him lightly in the ribs before snuggling up into his side.

'Neanderthal.'

'Yes, but I am your Neanderthal, apparently.'

'Good.'

'Hm.'

'Thank you, Harry.'

'You're welcome.'

'We should get up, I suppose.'

'Or not. We have a big day; we can afford to have a bit of a lie-in. Besides, you haven't eaten your breakfast yet.'

Draco sighed happily. He was quite comfortable and had no inclination to sit up properly and eat. 'You feed me and I'll eat.'

Harry snorted. 'I'm not your slave, you lazy git.'

'Should be,' he shot back playfully. 'I need minions to do my bidding.'

'Thought that's what your house-elves were for.'

Draco ignored that remark and pretended he was asleep.

Which lasted all of about a minute before Harry smacked his arse and told him to eat his breakfast. Grumbling about abusive boyfriends, he did as he was told, feeling very satisfied about the state of his life.


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** Not Mine

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**Author'sNotes:** Sorry this took so long. RL and co-modding a fest n Livejournal has eaten into my writing time. Hopefully, you'll all enjoy this chapter...and the cliffie at the end *evil grin*

jamie

xxxx

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Draco had to admit that the Ballroom in the Manor looked nearly perfect. Empty, it was a vast room where, when spoken, a voice echoed and a whisper could be heard from one end to the other, like secrets weren't allowed. Draco remembered the times he'd escaped from the house-elves as a child and hidden in here, spending hours running the length of the room in his socks and seeing how long he could skid for before he fell down giggling. He missed that delighted innocence of his childhood.

All set up for the party, though, the room took on a different character, where a child felt out of their depth. Draco admired the table settings, with their crisp white cloths, heavy gold cutlery and the best of crystal stemware. Each place-setting had individually engraved place-cards sitting in a nest of tiny rosebuds charmed golden. Everything was perfectly in place and sparkling clean. As he expected.

There would be almost five hundred people in the ballroom for the party and Draco, though experiencing slight anxiety about hosting such an important event, was looking forward to being the centre of attention.

In the corner, the band was tuning their instruments. A string quartet would have been brilliant, but Pansy and his mother had insisted on something more elaborate that included modern instruments more in keeping with a party for the younger generation, later after all the 'oldies' had left.

Smiling at his mother as she entered the ballroom and gave it a final inspection, he realised once more how very beautiful she was and how lucky he was to still have her. She was in her element in this environment, preparing to host several hundred people in her home. Draco hoped that her expanded social network, and Hortin, gave her many years of pleasure and fulfilment.

'You look stunning, Mother,' Draco said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. 'As does the room, right down to the golden balloons you have hanging from the ceiling.' He smiled because the balloons had seemed like an idea for a child's party, but the mass of gold orbs floating across the ceiling, adorned with lengths of twirled golden ribbons left to hang freely, added a welcoming, festive air to the formal tables.

'They were a lovely idea, weren't they?' She gave him a grateful smile and patted his arm. 'As long as you have a wonderful evening all, will be well.'

'How can I fail to enjoy myself with so many people in attendance and my family and friends here to help me celebrate?'

'Speaking of guests, they should be arriving shortly. Will Harry be joining you to greet them?'

'If he can drag his arse down here on time,' Draco replied.

'You two haven't had another argument, have you?' Draco noticed an irritated frown crease her brow. He hastened to relieve her.

'No, of course not,' he said hastily to relieve her. 'But I swear he takes longer to get ready than I do.'

She smiled. 'I find that had to believe. I seem to recall Pippy telling me only this morning that you began preparations as soon as you rose this morning.'

'That house-elf is getting ideas above his station,' Draco groused, albeit half-heartedly. He was well aware of, and appreciated the devotion Pippy held for his family. If that meant an ounce of familiarity, then Draco would live with that. It was a far cry from the austere, often cruel way in which the elves were treated when his father was alive, and perhaps the elves deserved the freedom to express that devotion.

'You'd be lost without him and you know it.' She patted his arm and looked over his shoulder. 'Here is someone else you'd be lost without.' She smiled knowingly at Draco and, as he turned and saw Harry entering, he understood her comment and blushed furiously.

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' he said. 'So he saved my life a couple of times.'

'One day you'll wake up and find yourself regretting this attitude, Draco.' Her voice lowered as if she was disappointed. 'However, I do not wish to darken your mood for your party, so we'll speak no more of it.' She smiled in Harry's direction and headed toward him.

For several moments, while Harry and his mother spoke, Draco hung back and scowled slightly. Why was it that everyone took it upon themselves to tell Draco what he should be thinking or doing or feeling? Wasn't he an adult that could very well make his own decisions? Hadn't he managed to transform his family's fortunes, so that, far from being the pariahs of the wizarding world, they were now feted and respected members of the social elite? Something his moron of a father had failed to do. Didn't he deserve _some_ credit for his maturity and judgment when it came to his personal … _entanglements?_ The fact that he'd decided he did need, and in fact did like, Harry was neither here nor there and no one else's business but theirs.

Sighing, since there wasn't anything he could do about it anyway, Draco joined his mother and Harry and chatted idly until the guests began to arrive.

…..

Several hours later and Draco's smile felt plastered to his face. Hours of standing and greeting his guests had required several glasses of fortification in order to be able to bear the handshakes of the men who thought they had something to prove to Draco, and thus gripped his hand so hard it felt like his fine bones ground together.

He also required several handkerchiefs to clean his face, cheeks literally covered in various shades of pink, red and brown from where the women greeted him. He rued that they were not in the finest courts in Europe where tradition dictated the lips not touch the skin.

Still, he had to admit that there was not a sneer in sight; no smartly covered put-downs, no back-handed compliments. All his guests seemed genuinely pleased to be there.

'Draco, thank you so much for inviting us at the last minute,' Tracey Davis said, greeting him like and old friend, with a smile wider than any he'd ever seen on her face. In all honestly, he barely knew her; she'd been a taciturn girl at Hogwarts - no one had known her that well.

'My pleasure. If I'd know there were so many of my old Slytherin schoolmates around I would have invited you earlier.'

'Most of us have been keeping a pretty low profile,' she said, cutting her eyes towards Harry.

Draco bristled; it wasn't Harry's fault they'd all had a hard time. He was about to remind her of that fact, but he caught Harry's expression and sighed. No matter what he said, Harry was going to take responsibility for the situation. Bloody hero. Instead of berating her, he used the excuse that there were people waiting in the line to get her to move along, promising that they'd talk again properly, later.

It seemed to be the same with all the old Slytherins, even Theo. They all greeted him like a long lost friend. Draco could hardly blame them; he remembered what his life was like when the public hated his very name and all that he stood for. With Draco's image having been redeemed, being seen as Draco's friend would benefit their lives immensely. He was glad that he had Harry standing by his side when Theo arrived, because the hungry look in Theo's eyes made Draco realise that Theo had not let his desire for Draco go. Not that he was worried about Theo; he had his new protection bracelet, after all. Besides, he'd always been able to handle Theo's amorous feelings for him.

Blaise arrived as Theo entered the ballroom proper in search of his other friends. He had the Bones girl - Draco could ever remember her first name - on his arm, but it appeared like he might have to, as this was the third or fourth date they'd been on and Blaise looked smitten.

'Theo looked at you like you were a very tasty morsel he was dying to devour,' Blaise said when they'd all greeted each other.

'If he continues to look at Draco like that, I might need to have a talk with him,' Harry said.

Draco laughed. 'No you won't. He's had a crush on me since Hogwarts. He's harmless.'

'Nice to have your very own hero on hand, though,' Blaise quipped.

Draco swatted him. 'I can look after myself, thanks.'

'When you don't fall apart in a panic.'

Draco's mouth dropped open. 'I do not panic,' he said, affronted. 'You try living while someone is trying to kill you and see how you cope.'

Blaise held up his hands. 'All right, I'm sorry; I was only teasing you.'

'Well, find something funny to tease me with,' said Draco. 'Because that certainly was not funny.'

'Like how cute you and Harry are together, perhaps?'

'Do you want me to tell Bones, here, how many people you've slept with before her?'

'Oh, she knows,' Blaise responded, but his eyes were guarded. Draco smirked.

'How many men?' he said and knew he'd scored a victory with that one. He'd bet Blaise had not admitted to sleeping with any men at all.

'You've slept with men?' Bones asked, her eyes wide as she'd looked at Blaise. But far from appearing disgusted, as Draco, and obviously Blaise, had expected, she'd looked curious and blushed just a little.

Harry laughed beside Draco, while Blaise stuttered, clearly unsure of how to answer.

'Oh, Susan, put him out of his misery,' Harry said, still chuckling.

_Susan!_ That was it. Draco would have to remember that name.

'Blaise, I don't mind if you've slept with men, as long as you don't mind that I've slept with other girls,' Susan said. Draco grinned; this girl had potential after all. Even if she had been a Hufflepuff.

'You have?' Blaise recovered and looked as if he'd just found buried treasure. He hooked his arm through Susan's, waved vaguely to Harry and Draco, and dragged her off, leaving them to continue greeting guests.

'She's a dark horse, that one,' Draco said to Harry.

'Well, if you'd known her through school like I did, you'd have known these things.'

'We weren't exactly known for courting cordial relations between the houses.'

'I know. Hence finding out this late that people aren't what you expect them to be.'

Draco found that he couldn't do anything but agree. The turns his life had taken in the past months had definitely shown the truth in Harry's statement.

…..

Once the exquisite main course had been served, enjoyed and removed, the band began to play and several couples took to the dance floor. Draco would have loved to dance with Harry, but Harry backed away, telling Draco that they'd have their own private dance later because he didn't want to make an idiot of himself standing on Draco's toes all the time. This little show of vulnerability made Draco smile inside and he didn't push it; he'd have Harry all to himself later. Instead, Draco escorted his mother to the dance floor and enjoyed her look of pride and happiness while he guided her through the steps. When the song finished, Hortin politely cut in, and Draco happily relinquished her into his capable hands, telling her he'd see her for dessert and the speeches later in the evening.

Draco noticed one of the Creevy brothers running around, taking publicity shots for a newspaper. Draco could never remember which was the one who died, but as he never called him anything but 'Creevy', he supposed it wasn't really important to remember which one it was.

'Draco! How about a picture of you with all of your old school mates?' Creevy called out, brandishing his camera around like a wand.

Draco agreed, thinking it a perfect opportunity to bestow some of his popularity on his old Slytherins. 'Only if you guarantee that this shot will be in the paper,' he responded.

'Sure! Anything for you, Draco.' Creevy smiled back at him with the look of one besotted.

After these pictures, Draco was going to find a nice quiet corner in which to rearrange his face and give his tired muscles a rest. Who knew that being so much in demand and required to be at the top of his game for so long would be so tiring?

After casting around for the motley crew, who, he had to admit, had decked themselves out in all their old finery for the occasion and, as such, did not look out of place, Draco gathered them together, along with Pansy and Blaise, and posed for a few photos. Somehow Theo had managed to worm himself to Draco's side and had his arm snug around Draco's waist. Draco was uncomfortable with how familiar Theo was being, but he elected to act as if it was nothing out of the ordinary and hoped that would be the end of it.

'You lot have scrubbed up pretty well,' Creevy said as he snapped away, the flashbulbs giving Draco spots in front of his eyes.

'As if any of us would allow personal circumstances to get in the way of showing ourselves off to the best advantage,' Blaise whispered from beside him. 'Condescending twit.'

'Just smile and he'll move on to someone else soon,' Draco said just as quietly.

'He'll probably drag you off to take more photos with some other famous people,' Blaise said. 'I think you've won another heart, Draco. How do you do it?'

'My natural charm and beauty, of course.'

'Lucky Potter thinks he's harmless or your photos, along with the photographer, might end up in the wilds of Siberia.'

Draco snorted. 'He's not that possessive.'

'You keep saying that and yet I often see him looking like he's been hit by a thundercloud.'

'When would this be?'

'Every time you get familiar with someone.'

'I am familiar with a lot of people.'

'And you wonder why he has such a dark look on his face.'

'I'm not scared of him,' Theo scoffed from Draco's other side and his arm tightened perceptibly around Draco's waist.

'Good, because I am not going to get familiar with you, Theo,' Draco said, trying to edge a little further away. Really, this hero-worship was becoming a little tiresome, now. It was fine from a distance – they could look but not touch, and of course Draco played that up. As long as it was kept at a distance. Draco wouldn't risk Harry's ire over another ill-advised liaison.

'I'll be as familiar as I like,' Theo replied, voice hard.

Draco frowned, not appreciating the tone or the sentiment. 'We will discuss this later, Theo,' he said. Putting Theo in his place would be best done away from the glare of the cameras and Harry's eagle eye. He had no wish to humiliate the man in public, no matter how misguided his attention.

'Hey, Draco, no frowning,' Creevy called out, stalling any more conversation, and Draco plastered his smile back on for the snapping camera.

When Creevy was satisfied, Theo scarpered off to prop up the bar. Again. Draco spoke with the others for a few more minutes before excusing himself to find Harry and tell him that he was going to have a word with Theo. What he really wanted to do was to find a nice quiet corner with Harry and be on the receiving end of some serious pampering from someone that he wanted to be touched by. However, if he didn't deal with Theo before he was staggering drunk, then he'd lose the opportunity to do it tonight and would have to spend even more time with the vile man on some other occasion. Better to get it over and done with now he had the chance.

Harry was chatting amiably with several Weasleys and Granger. At least Granger was friendly, although he could do without her exuberance at what she considered a new-found friendship. He wasn't sure how the other Weasleys would receive him. He now considered Ron an acquaintance and, despite being quite positive that his father would be turning in his grave if he knew Draco was even considering a Weasley as worthy of his time, knew that in the years to come they might find friendship. As far as Draco was concerned, Ron Weasley protected both himself and Harry well, and had earned Draco's respect. Unfortunately, Ron was on duty tonight, pleased that it would be his last night, but unable to be moral support for Draco facing them en mass by himself.

As for the rest of them…he would try really hard to be polite and friendly, but these were _Weasleys_ and his father had ever had a good word to say about the blood traitors. Ever. He knew his opinion of them had been formed by his father and was probably, no, definitely exaggerated, but there were some things that just came naturally. Still, his father had been wrong about almost everything in Draco's life; perhaps he could learn. He'd learned with Harry and with Ron.

Draco sighed and bravely joined the conversation with Harry's adopted family, although he thought he'd rather be putting Theo in his place than having to converse with Weasleys. Then Harry smiled at him; the one that made Draco's knees go weak. And he placed a possessive arm around Draco's waist and Draco decided that he'd get used to red hair if Harry always smiled at him like he'd risen the sun.

Draco's mind wandered as they made small talk. The warmth and weight of Harry's hand on his waist, occasionally moving, fingers rubbing surreptitiously over his hip, led Draco to think of things he'd much rather Harry be doing with his hand. And _those_ thoughts were making his face heat up. If he wasn't careful he'd be sporting a hard on and wanting to drag Harry into the nearest alcove and ravish him. Or he'd be attempting to deal with an amorous Theo while he was still aroused and flustered and that would be a drastic mistake.

Bloody Potter. Draco made himself laugh at the looks that would appear on the Weasley faces if he tried the same tactic as he had at the AV dinner. Different situation, though: Harry was hardly going to react in the same way; in fact, he'd probably be furious with Draco…_Oh, bad idea, Draco_. He forced those delicious thoughts aside, instead turning to whisper in Harry's ear.

'Save my place; I'll be back shortly.'

Harry turned to look at him. 'Where are you off to?'

'Just dealing with an over-amorous Theo once and for all. I won't be long, but I don't want to humiliate him in front of everyone.'

'I'll come with you,' Harry said, and the scowl on his face was dark and dangerous. Draco hastened to stop him.

'No, it will only make things worse if you're there.'

'But I don't trust him.'

Draco's eyebrow arched. 'Don't you think I can look after myself, Potter?'

'Of course I do, but someone is trying to kill us, in case you've forgotten,' Harry hissed.

'Theo?' Draco laughed. 'Trust me, it's not Theo. Anyway, I've always been able to deal with Theo Nott.'

'I don't care; I'm coming with you.'

Their voices were lowered but the conversation around them had ceased anyway. 'I am not having this argument with you in front of all my guests, Harry. I can bloody well do this on my own, without you blundering in and lighting a match to what will be a tense situation. Now stay here; you're making a scene!'

To his credit, Harry did stop and look around, giving those around them an apologetic look.

'Besides, I have my bracelet, now,' Draco whispered as he kissed Harry's cheek. 'I'll be safe; I promise.'

Harry still looked doubtful, and while Draco appreciated his desire to protect, it grated on his nerves a little. He didn't like being told what to do, not by anyone. Especially not while he was safe in his own home. He restrained his irritation behind a tight smile and left before Harry could voice any further objections.

Theo was still propping up the bar, though he paid no attention to his drink. Instead, his eyes were fixed on Draco as he politely evaded several attempts to catch his attention on his way over. Draco could feel the intensity of Theo's look boring into him even when he averted his own look to a guest as he moved through the crowd. He knew that inevitably this would be a hard conversation; made harder by the fact that Theo was someone he'd grown up with. Not close friends by any measure, but someone who shared his history. Draco only hoped that Theo wouldn't take this discussion too hard. Damn, Harry was rubbing off on him; he was actually feeling some compassion for Theo. In the past he'd have ridiculed Theo and not cared one whit for his feelings. The last months had made him soft.

'Theo,' Draco said as he approached the man. Many people would call Theo Nott a good catch; he was handsome, and scrubbed up well when he wanted. If not for his family's affiliation with the Dark Lord, he'd have snagged some society beauty and be happily married with a horde of children to carry on the name. Apart from the fact that he was as bent as Draco.

'Draco.' Theo nodded, eyes remaining firmly fastened on Draco's lips. It was discomforting, but Draco very deliberately did not bite his lips or lick them or in any other way indicate that he might be aware of it. He couldn't afford that; not now, not ever. Not if he was to be firm about his rejection.

'Enjoying yourself?'

'Hm. A lot more now I have your attention.' Draco grimaced as Theo swallowed the last of his drink in one gulp. He wondered just how much the man had consumed.

'About that, Theo, I think we should go somewhere private and discuss this infatuation of yours.'

'Be glad to. I would appreciate having some time with you all to myself. We can make up for lost time.'

Draco clamped his jaw shut, refusing to have this discussion in public, but what he wanted to do was shout that there would be no lost time to make up for. Theo Nott was an idiot.

'Follow me,' Draco said, retaining his composure and heading for the door, knowing Theo would follow him. He stopped at the doors where Ron was on duty.

'Theo and I will be in my father's study and we don't wish to be disturbed.' As Theo moved up beside him and placed a hand in the small of Draco's back, Draco glared at him until the smug smile dropped from his face and he removed the offending hand.

'Right-o, Draco. Yell if you need anything,' Ron replied, giving Theo a dirty look. Draco was suddenly thankful Ron would be within shouting distance.

'Thanks.' He gave Ron a grateful smile and led Theo into his father's study, shutting the door behind him.

The music was barely audible. What noise remained was lost in the space of the lofty ceiling or deadened by the shelves of books that lined each wall. Draco was at once aware of how quiet it was in the room. He took a deep breath; the loss of the barrier of noise was disquieting and he felt the first stirrings of nerves. No matter what he said, this interview was going to be difficult.

'Finally coming to your senses, I see,' Theo said, surprising Draco by standing directly behind him while he closed the door.

'What do you mean?'

'That was a very public way of dumping Potter.' Theo's voice was smug now and Draco turned to find that the expression in Theo's eyes was one of intense satisfaction. He moved away from the oddly compelling eyes and shook his head.

'I can assure you I have not dumped Harry and have no intentions of letting him go.'

Theo laughed, sending a little shiver of worry through him. 'You just told your guard in front of five hundred people that you were taking me somewhere for a private discussion and you didn't want to be disturbed. And this was after you had a rather embarrassing little spat with Potter that everyone saw.'

'Draco moved to sit on his father's desk. He folded his arms and crossed his legs, aware it was a defensive position but damn if Theo wasn't putting him on edge with his stupid claims.

'Harry and I fight more often than not. Our friends will think nothing of that little disagreement. They understand that we are committed to each other.' But did they? Draco realised that they really had no idea. Perhaps he should rectify that, after all. Surely he was mature enough to move past thinking he'd look like an idiot for confessing he'd fallen for Harry?

'Then why have you taken me into the study if not to show me how much you want me?' Theo moved closer to Draco, placing a hand each side of Draco, resting on the desk, effectively pinning him in place.

'I thought I was doing you a favour by handling this in private.'

'Doing what?'

'Telling you there can be nothing between us.'

'But there is, Draco. Can't you see how good we are together?'

'Theo.' Draco sighed and shook his head. 'What happened to you to make you like this?' Draco wasn't frightened; Theo's comments didn't scare him; they'd been through something similar back in Hogwarts and Draco thought that if need be he could hex Theo with a few uncomfortable, yet not dangerous hexes, and the matter would be settled.

'I've always wanted you, Draco. Back in school you looked like an angel with all that white hair and pale skin.'

Theo's face was uncomfortably close, eyes searching Draco's face as if to find just the right place to attack with his lips first. Draco felt like he was being sized up to be ravished. He rolled his eyes, tired of all the rubbish; it stunk.

'If you don't move yourself out of my personal space by the time I count to three, I will severely hex you, Theo Nott, and I mean it. I don't know what I've done to make you think you ever had a chance with me, but you don't.'

Draco unfolded his arms and pushed Theo away, deciding not to count after all. This was all getting a bit annoying. He followed Theo as he staggered back, poking his chest with his finger. 'Let me make this perfectly clear for the last time. There will never be anything between you and me other than friendship!' He punctuated each word with a sharp dig into Theo's chest. 'And if you don't back down and give up on this ridiculous assumption that I could ever want someone like you when I have someone like Harry, then you're a bigger idiot than I thought.'

All through Draco's speech, Theo looked surprised and had backed away under the dual onslaught of both the finger in his chest and the harsh words. When Draco reached the end, however, Theo's eyes flashed something dangerous.

Before Draco knew it, he was shoved magically into a chair, ankles, knees, wrists and elbows bound to the legs and arms, and a gag forcibly shoved in his mouth. _Fuck!_ When he overcame his shock enough to pay attention, he noticed Theo had his wand in his hand. He must have drawn it while Draco was berating him.

Draco still wasn't too frightened, more angry as hell. He had his bracelet on which would alert Harry to the fact he was in danger, and then he'd come to the rescue with the full Auror guard. He tried to call out, but the gag muffled any sounds. He also tried to pull his arms free from the bindings, but after several moments of struggle, gave in as Theo had ensured that they were firm and he would not be able to break free.

Draco scowled at Theo, still admonishing him through the gag. Theo ignored him, turned and cast several complicated silencing and locking spells at the door, which did make Draco pause. Those spells were ones he'd never heard before, but surely as an Auror, Harry would be able to find his way past them? What if he couldn't? Fear seized Draco and he began to struggle in earnest, heart thumping loudly in his chest and the alcohol he'd consumed that night souring in his stomach.

Theo's triumphant expression neared and Draco was engulfed in the alcoholic fumes of Theo's breath. The thing that made fear chill to dread and a cold sweat break out on his forehead, that frightened him more than being bound, more than the pain of the bindings digging into his wrists, and more than seeing Theo thinking he'd won, were the words Theo spoke next.

'Who ever said I was giving you a choice, Draco?'


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer: **Not mine. :)

**Author's Notes:** Sorry this took so long to finish, I've been working on an original slash story for NaNo. This chapter is a bit shorter than the last ones, but the end is a natural break before some smexing _finally!!! _Anyway, thanks to everyone who messaged me and asked where the next chapter is; I appreciate your interest! So, on to the chapter and beware - there is good and bad times coming up for our boys before they can be happy - or as happy as they can be.

jamie xxxx

* * *

Draco felt like a fool for not realising how dangerous Theo was, for having not noticed that he was not quite right. Now that it was obvious Theo Nott was insane, Draco was truly frightened. He struggled harder to try and escape the bindings, but he only succeeded in burning his wrists as the ropes pulled tighter and rubbed against them. The cloth that covered his mouth, kept him from taking a fresh breath. Every inhalation through his nose captured Theo's foul-smelling breath and dragged it into his lungs.

Fear and disgust turned his stomach and he felt like gagging, but he was too desperate to escape and he furiously quelled the reflex. Where the bloody fuck was Harry? He ignored Theo's insane chuckle and continued to fight the bindings.

'I should have done this back at Hogwarts,' Theo said, standing a few feet away from Draco. 'Would have saved both of us a lot of trouble. You really are made for this, aren't you?'

Draco shot him a glare, determined not to let Theo know just how frightened he was.

Theo aimed his wand at Draco and muttered something Draco didn't understand. He was expecting pain, but instead the buttons on Draco's shirt flew in all different directions, leaving the garment flapping open, exposing his chest.

'See, this is what I don't understand, Draco. You say you have a "thing" with Potter, yet he marred your body so dramatically.' Theo moved closer and traced Draco's _Sectumsempra_ scars with his wand. Draco flinched but felt no pain, only more disgust.

He mumbled, 'leave me alone you fucker,' behind his gag but the words were unintelligible. Not that Theo cared; he seemed to know exactly what Draco had said, because he merely smiled, a smile that was rapidly becoming greedy like a feral animal seeing its first meal in weeks.

'Perhaps if you'd listened to me back in school, your life might have turned out vastly different. You'd have been pure and unmarked by these hideous scars, for one.' Theo's expression twisted into a leer. 'And that arse of yours would have known no filthy, perverted half-bloods.' The sentence ended with Theo spitting the words.

Draco tried to argue; his scars were barely visible - even he didn't even remember them unless someone pointed them out, but the gag, now soaked in saliva, absorbed his words, and he yelled in frustration.

'I would have protected you.' Theo's voice was softer, now, chilling Draco and sending a shiver of dread along his spine. The man was clearly unhinged. No one could have protected Draco from Voldemort; not even his parents had been able to do that.

Despite his fear, Draco rolled his eyes, knowing it might provoke Theo into inflicting physical pain instead of taunting him with lunacy, but he didn't care. He'd be damned if he'd let Theo get away with thinking Draco gave any credence to his mad ramblings.

Theo waved his wand again and the button of Draco's trousers flicked away.

_Harry, please_, Draco pleaded silently, swallowing the cry fighting its way up his throat. _Hurry _up! Twisting his hips, he tried to escape the inevitable next step of his zip being lowered. Of course it was futile; he could no more escape that magic than he could the very real bindings on his body. All he was doing was giving crazy Theo a thrill at seeing Draco writhing on the chair; captive to something that frightened the life out of him.

If he survived this he was going to _kill _Theo for daring to think he had the right to inflict himself on Draco like this. How dare he? Fear coalesced into furious anger. Draco welcomed it; being paralysed by fear was going to get him nowhere and played right into Theo's hands.

As the anger took over his shaking body and calmed him, stilling his movements, he glared at Theo with all the loathing he could gather. At least it gave Theo a moment of indecision because he stepped back a fraction, narrowing his eyes as if trying to decipher what Draco's next move would be.

It only lasted a moment, before the smug smirk appeared back on Theo's face, though; the reality of the situation was that Draco could do nothing in his present situation. Theo held all the cards here.

That didn't mean Draco would go down without a fight.

Somehow he'd hang on until Harry arrived.

_If he arrived…_ his subconscious reminded him.

Theo held his wand out in front of him and smiled. 'This could all go so much easier if you'd just give in to the inevitable,' he said. 'You were always meant to be mine. I decided that the very first time I saw you. When you so stupidly rejected me, I tried to forget you, and when you stayed out of sight after the war, I mostly did.' Theo's wand traced the faint scars on Draco's chest. 'Then you had to save Potter and flaunt yourself in my face again. I was enraged when I saw you two becoming attached at the hip, and wanted you dead.' Theo frowned. 'But I should have tried when the Boy Wonder wasn't around. No matter, because now I think I'll take you with me and k–'

Everything seemed to happen at once then. The study doors literally burst apart, blown off their hinges and shattering into pieces around the room. Draco's eyes shot to the commotion and his stomach dropped in relief when he saw Harry, Ron and several other people ready to charge through.

From the corner of his eyes he saw Theo's head spin around to see. Then in a split second Draco's eyes met Theo's and Draco saw panic in them. 'This is not over,' Theo hissed and cast a spell aimed at Draco. Just as Stunning spells were cast by Draco's rescuers, Theo Disapparated.

Never in his life had he been so glad to see Harry Potter coming to the rescue. Apart from maybe when Harry rescued him from the Fiendfyre, but he'd hated Harry then. Now the relief was almost overwhelming. His hands began to shake in relief even before Harry made it to his side. 'Draco, are you alright?' His hands were at Draco's face, removing the gag, and other, unknown hands were removing the bindings, but all Draco could do was to stare up into Harry's eyes and tremble.

'Draco?' Harry knelt in front of him. Draco blinked as Harry's hands cupped his face; the sudden soft touch and the concern in Harry's eyes breaking through Draco's stare.

'I'm all right,' Draco whispered, not trusting his voice at all.

'Are you sure?'

Draco nodded and found himself engulfed in two strong arms and pulled against Harry's hard, safe chest. It was too much for Draco's shattered nerves. The trembling took over his entire body; he couldn't stop it. Somehow he managed to slide his freed arms around Harry and cling to him, taking in great gulping mouthfuls of air and trying to minimise space between their bodies. It almost felt like Harry's heart was trying to touch his.

Harry just held him tightly and let him shake, murmuring soothing words and stroking Draco's hair.

After several minutes, when he began to believe he was safe, he started noticing who else was in the room. Ron, he'd seen when the door had blasted open. Pansy and Blaise were also there, as were Granger and several other Weasleys. Briefly he was surprised by the fact that any Weasley, apart from Ron, had cared enough to come to his aid when he was in trouble. Later, when he could think about it clearly, he might have to raise them in his estimation a notch. For now, he was just grateful.

'Can you talk now?' Harry asked.

'Of course I can,' Draco snapped. At least he tried to snap but his voice was still under the impression that he was a scared and trembling mass of nerves and it ended up sounding like a plea.

He pulled back from Harry a little, thankful that he hadn't cried like a girl. He cleared his throat and tried again. 'I'm not a girl, and he didn't hurt me, just tied me up and taunted me with his mad ravings.'

'Your shirt and trousers?'

Draco looked down at himself. 'Well, you arrived before he could do anything else.' The thought of what would have happened next made him start shaking again. 'Thankyou,' he whispered, cursing his vocal chords.

Harry looked around. 'Blaise, could you get him something to wear? You'd know about his wardrobe better than the rest of us.' Blaise nodded and left.

Draco pulled his shirt closed around himself, feeling suddenly extremely vulnerable under everyone's gaze, especially the Weasleys he didn't know at all.

'Where's Mother?' he asked, looking around, realising belatedly that she wasn't there.

'She was here; she made sure you were all right, then went to send all the guests home. Kingsley has a squad of Aurors helping her, to make sure everyone leaves safely,' Ron answered.

Draco nodded and addressed Ron again, 'Has anyone gone after Theo?'

'We've sent people to his house and some other Aurors are questioning his friends to see if there is anywhere else he might go, apart from home. We'll catch him.'

Draco could feel Harry's tension right through his arms as they tightened around him again. 'And if I ever see him, he won't know whether to wish for salvation or death.' Harry's tone was merciless. Draco shivered, and not in fear. No one had ever been so adamant about protecting him before. He buried his face in Harry's chest and let himself be held.

Blaise arrived with some robes, which Draco accepted with a smile of thanks and changed quickly. Just as he finished dressing, his mother walked into the room. He caught sight of her worried face and almost broke down again. As she flew into his arms and held him tight, he could feel just how tightly she was holding on.

'Oh, my poor boy,' she sobbed.

'Mother, please, I am quite all right. I've just had a bit of a scare,' he reassured her.

'But when I think I could have lost you to that…that mad creature…'

'But you didn't. Harry saved me.' His voice softened as he looked over his mother's shoulder into Harry's eyes, hopefully conveying every ounce of feeling he had for Harry in that one look. 'I think he'll always save me.' He was pleased to see Harry blushing alongside the fierce determination to do just that.

She pulled back and looked up into his face, capturing Draco's attention once more. She was still clearly worried, but she managed a small smile. 'I have always said that your lives were entwined somehow.'

'I should never doubt you again, then.' Draco smiled back at her.

Obviously the smile was all it took to encourage everyone else to join in and before Draco knew it, he was whacked on the arm by Pansy and told to never, ever scare her like that again; Blaise gave him a one-armed hug, which just about broke a rib or two. Mrs Weasley, whom he decided he didn't mind being hugged by - she was soft and squishy and, apart from feeling a bit smothered, he felt comforted – took hold of him. Granger threw herself into his arms when they were free and Draco found himself with a mouthful of frizzy hair. If he hadn't been feeling so relieved he was safe, he'd have been spitting it out and pushing her away. Since he'd decided this Gryffindor lot weren't so bad after all and maybe he'd give them a chance, he just accepted it.

He really was going soft.

*

Everyone moved to the lounge and Draco's mother called the house-elves to bring tea and coffee for everyone. Harry asked them to also bring some of Ogden's finest and Draco was grateful; he thought he needed something a bit stronger than coffee. His hands still shook periodically.

His mother sat on one side of him and Harry the other. Harry hadn't left his side, which relieved Draco, as he didn't think he'd remain upright too long if Harry took off after Theo – no, he didn't deserve being called by his first name. Besides, he could get a much more satisfying level of loathing into spitting out the word _Nott_.

'There'll be a double set of guards around the manor tonight, Draco,' Ron said, a troubled look on his face. Draco nodded as he accepted a glass of Ogden's from a house-elf. 'I'm so sorry, Draco,' Ron burst out. 'If I'd had any idea–'

Draco stopped him. 'It's not your fault. I knew him and even I didn't suspect he was deranged.' Ron tried to protest, but Draco continued, hoping his voice and shattered nerves would hold out. 'He was behind the poisoning, too; he admitted it.'

'What reason would he have to want to kill you?' Harry asked from beside him.

'He's always been after Draco,' Pansy said. Draco looked across at her, noting her dismay.

'One way or the other,' agreed Blaise. 'It seems he took the rejection harder than any of us thought.'

'But why wait all these years?' Harry asked, still clearly confused.

Draco shrugged and sipped at his drink, letting the heat warm him all the way through. 'Perhaps it was out of sight, out of mind,' Draco said. 'All the years after the war, we've kept pretty much to ourselves. Me being in the news all the time must have sparked his…madness.'

'Sounds like you think he wasn't behind the attack on me, then,' Harry said.

Draco shook his head. 'No, I don't think so. He sounded like he'd not given me much thought until he saw me in the news, by your side so much.' Draco finished his drink, starting to feel a bit stronger. Nothing had really happened; he didn't know why his body had reacted as if he'd been violated.

'I still think you should see someone,' his mother said. 'You're all I have left and I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you. You don't know what he might have done to you.'

'Mother, I'm fine,' Draco said firmly, but his mind paused at that, remembering the spell Nott had aimed at him just before he'd Disapparated. He didn't feel any different, but that didn't mean there weren't any side-effects. He pushed the worry aside; no one else had seen the spell, and he didn't feel ill, so there was no need to worry anyone.

'I'm sorry your party was ruined,' she said. 'Everyone said they were having such a lovely time and we raised so much money for the orphanage. Hortin is extremely happy. And grateful.'

Draco had almost forgotten that the proceeds of the ball were going to the orphanage. He welcomed the change of topic. 'That's good,' he said, smiling the first genuine smile since the ordeal.

'He'll contact you tomorrow about the details. I think he wants to dedicate the new dormitory to you or something.'

'Fine,' Draco said, although he didn't know if he'd want the constant reminder of how his evening had ended every time he heard about the orphanage, if there was a wing named after him. 'What happened to Susan?' he asked Blaise.

'I sent her home; she understood.'

Draco nodded.

Conversation seemed stilted after that and often drifted into lengthy silences. Draco thought maybe they were all waiting for him to erupt into a tirade against someone. Draco didn't want to yell at anyone. They'd all fucked up not seeing that Nott was a suspect; no one was to blame. Then he thought that maybe they were all hoping to hear that Nott had been apprehended before they all retired to bed. He admitted he'd feel better when Nott was captured, but the tension of the day and evening descended on him and exhaustion seeped through his bones. Harry must have noticed him slumping, as he slipped his arm around Draco's shoulder. It was solid and real and offered shelter as well as affection, so he leaned into it.

'Take me to bed, Harry,' he said, stifling a yawn.

Harry nodded and stood up, pulling Draco to his feet. 'I'm sorry everyone, but today has been a long and hard one, and I'm knackered,' Draco said. 'Thank you, all, for …everything.' Draco's voice wobbled. He really wanted to thank his mother and Pansy for everything they'd done, but he thought if he opened his mouth again he might cry.

Everyone hugged him again, Pansy whispering in his ear that she'd seen him bright and early in the morning and catch him up on all the other gossip she'd heard. Ron clapped him on the shoulder and informed him that the wards around the Manor had been re-raised – after having been lowered for the party – and that he'd be safe. His mother kissed him soundly on both cheeks and looked at him steadily for several long moments before relinquishing him into Harry's care.

As they walked to Draco's bedroom, he leaned into the protection offered by Harry's arms and wondered why he'd ever thought he could live without this man.

'What took you so long to get to me?' he asked, remembering how he'd begged Harry to hurry up.

Harry grunted. 'Need to put a directional charm on that bracelet of yours. I felt it right away, but had no idea where you were. Then we were thwarted by his locking spells…it took time. I'm so sorry.'

'Harry, don't apologise,' Draco insisted. 'If you hadn't given me this bracelet, then you'd never have even known. Yet again you saved me.'

Harry stopped at Draco's bedroom door and drew Draco close. Draco's arms slid around Harry's waist and he held on. 'Thank Merlin you told Ron where you were going.'

'Well, I did, and I am all right,' Draco said softly, looking up into Harry's face, seeing the guilt so clearly written in his expression. 'Thanks to you.'

Harry sighed deeply and after several moments, while Draco was still caught up in Harry's eyes, the guilt faded from his face to be replaced by a heartfelt smile. It was enough to make Draco's knees weaken once more and he cursed himself for being such a weakling when it came to Harry.

He turned and opened the door to his room. When he stepped in, he was faced by the sudden realisation that he would have to spend the whole night _alone_ in his room. His pulse started hammering in his throat and he felt like he'd run around the Quidditch pitch a few times.

'Harry,' he said, fighting back the rising panic in his voice. Harry was beside him immediately and was quick to take him into his arms again. Draco let himself be held.

'Don't leave tonight?' Draco asked, the sound and feel of Harry's heartbeat under his cheek calming him again.

'Of course I'll stay,' Harry said.

Draco pulled back a little and smiled, relieved beyond all words. 'Right beside me, in my bed?'

'Well, I'm not sleeping on the floor,' Harry quipped.

Feeling much better, Draco laughed softly and stepped away to undress. 'And, look, it only took a brush with a madman to lure you into my bed,' Draco said, trying to keep the atmosphere light. 'I should have done this before.'

'You'll be the death of me, Malfoy,' Harry said, shaking his head and laughing. He undressed and slipped into bed holding his arms out to welcome Draco into the warmth and sanctuary they offered.

Draco gratefully slid in beside him, cuddled up against Harry's side and was soon cocooned in his arms.

Nothing could hurt him when he was with Harry.


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Not Mine in any way shape or form. :)

Author's Note: You guys have been so patient waiting for this chapter, I really appreciate it. This is a lovely smushy sexy chapter - the calm before the storm, just warning you now. Thanks for all the gorgeous reviews, too, I love them all.

have fun

jamie

xxxx

* * *

Some time later, Draco woke. Harry's arms were still wrapped around him, holding him close like a barrier against anything that might possibly cause him any distress. Draco felt warm and safe with Harry's slow, regular heartbeat under his ear. He moved far enough back to watch Harry as he lay sleeping. His features, even partially shadowed by the dulled light of the moon looked so _young_, Draco thought, smiling at the man he'd come to … love…?

Six months ago, he'd hated Harry – told himself he'd hated Harry – and now… he could hardly credit the changes. Somewhere along the line he'd grown up, he realised. Perhaps that was what happened when you had someone trying to kill you, although he'd lived with much worse crippling fear so maybe that wasn't entirely the reason. Perhaps it was merely Harry's influence rubbing off on him, making him see how things could be if he would only let them.

He smiled and pressed his lips to Harry's chest, the coarse hairs tickling his lips pleasurably. He could easily get used to spending his nights wrapped up in Harry, where there was a contentment he'd never felt before and an intimacy that went beyond physical.

He quite suddenly understood what Harry meant by something more than sex. Of course, he'd understood what Harry meant before, but this was the first time he'd actually felt like he didn't need the sex to make this connection between them sparkle with the welcoming of a homecoming candle. Sex would come in its own time when they were both ready for it.

Draco had fallen asleep earlier thinking that nothing could hurt him when he was with Harry. A tired thought, appearing in his mind as something to grasp on to for safety. But thinking about how safe and protected he felt now, he was ashamed of the manipulations he'd employed in order to trap Harry. Along with the shame, came the determination to ensure that he never found out about how it all started, rather that he'd ensure he made Harry happy for as long as he was allowed to. He was not naïve enough to think that everything would be perfect; no, the exhilaration of their verbal and sometimes physical battles was a vital part of the attraction and he wasn't sure he wanted to give that up.

Startled at this declaration of commitment, Draco almost recanted, the fear of letting Harry down fuelling doubts about his ability to accomplish it. And they were valid doubts; his success rate in the past was virtually non-existent. Could he even make Harry happy? What did Harry see in him that would make him think Draco was so special? He wasn't sure how he'd cope now if Harry left him.

Losing Harry, along with the very real fear that _Nott_ was still out there waiting to kill him, turned his peace to insecurity. Merlin, he hated this side of himself. He'd always prided himself on never needing anyone, always doing things on his own in his own way and he'd _enjoyed_ being like that. The last six months had shown him a different side of himself and now it _mattered_ that he had Harry in his life.

Harry shifted under his cheek, his arm tightening around Draco's back and shoulder. 'You all right, there?' came Harry's sleep-filled voice.

'Yes, why?' Draco asked quietly, slipping his arm across Harry's warm skin and holding on.

'You feel tense. Thought you might be having a nightmare or something.'

Draco sighed and looked up into Harry's face.

'I'm not about to let _Nott_ give me nightmares, Harry,' he said as sharply as he could manage. He was not about to show any more weakness in front of Harry than he'd already shown earlier in the evening. He wasn't weak and he could look after himself, although he did appreciate the safety Harry afforded.

'Good for you,' Harry replied, yawning. 'Can't you sleep then?'

'No.' Draco let his hand trail through the soft hair on Harry's chest.

'Want to talk about it?'

Draco frowned. 'I'm not a girl; I don't need to speak about my feelings all the time.'

Draco could feel Harry's chest shaking with silent laughter and he scowled.

'No, but you sure do know how to tell me when you're feeling angry or are after my body.'

'That's different.' Draco's voice softened and his lips curved into a smile.

'How?' Harry's hand moved into Draco's hair, fingers threading through it as he massaged Draco's scalp. Draco almost purred in pleasure and he stretched his limbs as he pressed closer to Harry's side, entwining their legs.

'It just is,' Draco said. But perhaps here in the darkened room, the moonlight shedding barely enough light to see Harry's eyes, confidences could be shared. Perhaps sharing these intimacies was normal for people in a relationship. Draco remembered back to when Harry had told him about finding his peace; in being able to share vulnerabilities without being mocked for them. He sighed and tightened his arm around Harry's waist. 'I can't help but be horny whenever you're around,' he said in an attempt to deflect the desire to reveal his true thoughts.

Harry chuckled sleepily. 'That wasn't the tension I felt.' The hands were still threading through Draco's hair, relaxing him into docility.

All these years, Draco had refused to let anyone close; thought intimacy a weakness pursued only by those who had no self-respect or dignity. And only now did he realise how much he'd been missing.

'Why do you like me, Harry?' Draco asked. 'I mean apart from the fact that I'm bloody gorgeous.' He smiled as he felt Harry laughing again. Draco pinched his nipple. 'Stop, I'm being serious,' he said, unable to keep the amusement from his voice.

Harry's free hand covered Draco's where it sat on Harry's chest. 'Because behind the superiority complex, the sarcastic comments and the arrogance is a man who wants to be loved, just like the rest of us,' Harry said softly.

Draco had opened his mouth to protest, but shut it again with a snap as the truth of Harry's words sank in.

Harry turned onto his side, dislodging Draco's head to bring them face-to-face. When Draco settled on the pillow and looked at Harry, he found the light from the moon had highlighted his serious expression. The angle of the light gave Draco some comfort knowing his own expression was likely hidden in the shadows as he studied Harry's. He could still have the illusion of hiding his vulnerability.

'Because you push me,' Harry continued. 'You make me work for every step forward we take in this relationship. You weren't just handed to me on a plate.' Harry reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair away from Draco's forehead and Draco, touched, unconsciously leaned into it. 'There's a softness under that rough exterior that very few people get to see. You love your mother deeply, and Pansy and Blaise run a close second. You've made such an effort to get along with my friends and even Ron likes you.'

Draco leaned forward and kissed Harry very gently on the lips, a bubble of emotion blocking his throat.

'Besides,' Harry said, smiling, lips still pressed to Draco's, 'You make it virtually impossible for me to keep my hands off you.'

Draco found his voice and whispered. 'What if I told you I thought I was falling in love with you?' To Draco, the whispered words cracked like thunder around the room.

'I would say I'm already there, waiting to catch you.'

'Oh.' Draco let out a shaky breath as he searched Harry's face and could only find sincerity. Draco smiled, his heart full of happiness. His only concern was his uncertainty of being worthy of such love.

After all his plans and machinations, he'd been the one to say it first after all.

Draco slid his hand behind Harry's neck and pulled him closer for a deep kiss, almost laughing at the irony of the situation but being too giddy with love to care. Before the kiss robbed him of breath completely and made his limbs too weak to work properly, he rolled on top of Harry and spread himself out over warm skin and firm body, wanting to both cover Harry completely and cling to him so tightly that no one could ever pry them loose. He sought out every inch of Harry's skin he could reach, finally slipping under the cotton boxers to grasp onto a rapidly filling erection. The small hitched gasps Harry made and the way his body moved into each touch, gave Draco the confidence that this time, he would not be told to stop.

Draco broke the kiss and raised himself on to one elbow. The familiar length in his hand was warm and felt weighty, and as he continuously stroked he felt every tiny jolt. Poised over Harry, he could see, even in the dim light, the desire darkening Harry's eyes. Draco leaned down and nuzzled Harry's cheek. 'I want you,' he whispered, smiling as Harry shivered. 'My head knows we're together, my heart knows, too, now make sure my body never forgets who it belongs to.'

'Yes,' Harry replied, raising a hand to caress Draco's face. 'You'll show me what…?'

'You just lie there and let me do all the work,' Draco replied, reassuring as he pressed kisses to Harry's throat and worked along his collarbone.

Fingers as gentle as butterflies trailed along Draco's spine and he shivered in pleasure, gasping as they gripped his arse and held on. From under him, Harry rolled his hips, forcing their erections together, which sent shock waves of desire down to Draco's toes and right back to his groin. Even through the cloth of their underwear, Harry still felt hard and hot and Draco wanted him inside, _now_!

Draco reached for his wand and Vanished the remains of their clothing, then performed the lubrication charms, readying himself and slathering both their cocks in the slippery substance. He looked down at Harry's eyes, gleaming now in the moonlight. 'Are you sure this is what you want?' Draco asked.

'Yes.' Harry smiled. 'Now get a move on or I'm going to come embarrassingly early.'

'I wouldn't care if you came right now,' Draco replied, grinding his hips downwards and crushing Harry's erection to his own.

Harry moaned and gripped Draco's arse even tighter. 'I would. After waiting so long, when I come I want to be balls deep in your arse, watching you come.'

'Merlin, yes,' Draco breathed as he rose shakily to his knees and straddled Harry's hips. There'd deliberately been no stretching charm when Draco lubricated both of them; he wanted to remember every inch of Harry's penetration, paying dues for the way in which he'd started this relationship. He knew it would hurt, but only for a short time and part of him demanded that.

Taking several deep breaths, he took hold of Harry's slick cock and positioned it, feeling the blunt head brushing over his hole, both welcoming and dreading the anticipation of the burn of being penetrated. He watched Harry bite his bottom lip and a small frown line appear on his forehead, but the eyes were what captured Draco's attention. The green eyes that looked almost black in the moonlight were pinned to Draco's face, watching his every move. Draco smiled, braver with Harry watching him, and sat back on Harry's cock, forcing it in an inch or so.

The burn made him hiss; his eyes watered and stung and left his vision blurry for several seconds before he closed them completely when a sob worked it's way shakily from his throat.

'Draco…?'

Draco stilled his trembling with great effort and opened his eyes, blinking hard to clear his vision. The burn spread through his whole body, the pain tingled in his toes and increased his breathing to rapid, shallow panting, but he held Harry's eyes defiantly and shook his head.

'I'm all right,' he managed. 'Just been quite a while. I want this; I want my body to know it's been taken.'

Draco's voice ended in a hoarse, desperate whisper as he pressed down with every word, taking Harry deeper inside him, feeling like he was being split apart, until he was sitting on Harry unable to go any further.

'You're so tight,' Harry said, hands running along Draco's thighs, their warmth giving Draco something else to focus on.

Draco smiled tightly, hands pressed to Harry's chest, eyes half closed as he tried to will his muscles to relax. 'That's what comes of not stretching beforehand,' Draco said, moving his hands to cover Harry's.

Harry took Draco's hands and entwined their fingers. 'Next time we'll stretch you properly; you're in pain and I don't want…'

'Shh…' Draco said, gasping as Harry moved under him. 'I wanted it this way; just don't move yet.' As the waves of burning passed with the relaxing of his muscles, Draco's head dropped back and his breathing became exhalations of relief. Draco rolled his hips experimentally and exclaimed in surprise as a frisson of arousal hardened his partially softened cock once more.

'All right; you can move now,' Draco said, not letting go of Harry's hands, rather using them to brace himself as he rose and then dropped once more. Harry's grip tightened on his fingers and Draco sought out Harry's face in the gloom in order to watch as he fucked him.

'Don't be gentle with me, Potter; I won't break,' Draco hissed as he continued to raise himself and drop back onto Harry's cock.

'I might, though,' Harry said, grunting as he thrust up to meet Draco's downward movement. 'You feel so fucking amazing, and you look like…something out of this world with the moonlight shining on your skin like that.'

Draco adjusted his angle and shuddered as Harry hit his prostate and the dull, odd throbbing pleasure expanded, catching him in a web and spinning him tighter and tighter until he could barely breathe from need. All he could focus on was the knot of pleasure deep in his groin, their stuttering breaths and the faint smacking of flesh on flesh. Though all that was background to the deep emotion he felt emanating from Harry's eyes. It may have been a trick of the light, but Draco found himself floating jubilant on a wave of pure love in Harry's eyes. He collapsed onto Harry's chest, exhausted, and let Harry hold him while he thrust up into him, content with slipping his hand between them and stroking himself. Hot lips claimed his and a heavy hand held his head still while Harry kissed the rest of the breath out of him.

By the time he was desperate to breathe, his body, hovering on the edge of orgasm, betrayed him. He gave one startled cry as he seized up and came shaking and shuddering all over Harry's chest.

'Oh fuck…' he moaned as his body liquefied where it rested against Harry, giving small, spasmodic shivers. Harry held him close and came barely a minute later, breath harsh and loud and hot in Draco's ear. Weakly, Draco wrapped his arms around Harry and held him while he rode out his orgasm, thinking nothing could be quite so wonderful as holding someone you love as they fell apart._ Knowing_ that you'd aroused them to that state.

'Oh, bugger,' Harry said several minutes later. 'Why in Hell did we take so long to do that?' He gave a small rueful laugh.

Draco smirked, but he was too tired to make a big deal out of it. In fact, he was quite comfortable and, splayed out over Harry or not, he could easily sleep right where he was. 'I could say I told you so…'

'Why did I know you were going to say that?' Harry chuckled and let his fingers dance over Draco's skin.

'It was the obvious answer.' Draco smiled tiredly into Harry's shoulder.

'Hm,' Harry said. 'I suppose that makes it official, then?'

'What?'

'I am officially completely under your spell.'

Draco laughed softly and kissed Harry's chest before disentangling himself reluctantly and cuddling up to Harry's side. 'About bloody time,' he said, yawning.

Harry snorted. 'Wanker.'

'Not any more,' Draco teased, smug.

Harry laughed and pinched Draco's bum. 'Go to sleep, you, there'll be press and statements to deal with tomorrow and you won't want to see them with dark circles under your eyes.'

Yawning again, Draco snuggled closer into Harry's side, pleasantly aching in places that had not ached so much in six months, and content beyond anything he had ever imagined in his wildest dreams. Tomorrow's unpleasantness could be dealt with tomorrow.


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** Not Mine

**Author's Note:** Sorry it took me this long to upload - I posted it to my lj a week or so ago and forgot to update here. *hides* sorry.

Love to all and hope you enjoy this chapter - only two more after this one I think. Maybe three.

Jamie

xxxx

* * *

'You certainly don't look like someone who's been through an ordeal,' Pansy said, smirking.

Draco would have scowled at her on any other occasion, but this morning he was feeling too giddy with happiness to care. It didn't mean he had to admit to it, though. He opened his mouth to retort with something scathing before he remembered that in the still of the night, in the peace and warmth of his bed, protected and comforted by Harry, he'd decided there was to be no more hiding his feelings from friends and family. His feelings for Harry, anyway. Besides, he admitted that they'd probably already realised before he had.

'Let's just say I've been well comforted,' Draco said, answering Pansy's smirk with a smug smile.

'Quite,' she said. 'And if you didn't look so bloody happy, I'd pester you for every single detail.'

'No chance,' Draco snorted. 'And even if there was the slightest chance of telling you anything, it would definitely not be before breakfast.'

Draco called Pippy to take his order.

'Is master in need of a big breakfast?' Pippy asked, a knowing tone in his voice and a big smile across his ugly face.

'What would make you think that, Pippy?' Draco asked, refraining from reprimand because the creature looked stupidly happy about something.

'Pippy is thinking that Master and Mister Harry Potter is very happy and needs to be keeping their energies up.'

Pansy laughed and ordered her own breakfast, while Draco tried not to wonder how his house-elves knew everything that went on in the Manor. All he needed now was his mother to walk into the room and comment on his sex life. Then he'd really have something to squirm over.

'Good morning, Draco, although it is almost noon. I must say you're looking quite pleased with yourself, today.' Narcissa entered the room, dressed for the day, a bright smile on her face and no trace of the anxiety from the previous evening.

Speak of the devil, Draco thought. He smiled and rose to kiss her cheek. 'Good morning, Mother. Yes, I am feeling exceptionally well this morning.' And he was; he hadn't even winced as he'd sat down earlier, though his muscles felt tired and deliciously achey.

She smiled into his eyes, relief etched alongside satisfaction. 'Mr. Weasley asked me to tell you that a team of Aurors will be along later to take your formal statement about the incident last night.'

Draco nodded, not in the slightest put out by the inconvenience; nothing was going to dim his happiness today. 'Ron is still here, then? Hasn't the man a home to go to?'

'He refused to leave, mentioning something about feeling responsible for last night.'

'Idiot. He's no good as security if he's falling asleep on his feet. Besides it wasn't his fault,' Draco said, intending to go and tell Ron to go and get some rest. But his mother stopped him with a hand on his arm.

'I'll tell him. I only stopped in to see if you were up yet. I'm on my way to the ballroom to check how the clean up is proceeding. You stay and eat your breakfast.' She gave Draco a smile and kissed his cheek. 'Harry not joining you?'

Draco raised an eyebrow at the suggestion in her eyes. 'He will be down shortly, I assume. He was still in the shower when I left.'

'Very well.' His mother smiled at him again, and left.

'It's a wonder you're not enjoying the shower with him,' Pansy said once they were alone.

She had a point, Draco agreed. However, as much as they had virtually cemented their relationship during the night, Draco felt that pushing Harry too fast, too quickly, might create some tension and distance between them as it had done in the past. He'd have liked nothing better than to be right by Harry's side every minute of the day – and didn't _that_ shock him right to his toes? – but insults and sexual aggression hadn't worked on progressing their relationship any faster; honesty and patience had.

Draco shocked himself at times with how mature he had become.

'There'll be plenty of time for that,' he answered Pansy.

'Oh, so you've finally admitted that there is a future for you and the Golden Boy?'

'Perhaps,' he hedged, and then shook his head; he was supposed to be past all this hiding. 'Actually, there's no 'perhaps' about it,' he amended, jumping in feet first. 'I'm not sure I could let him go now, even if I tried.' He could feel his cheeks heating as he blushed and he cursed his pale skin. Well…Pansy could mock if she dared, but he'd made up his mind. He was happy and he was going to stay that way.

'Good.'

Draco looked up at her, waiting for the 'I told you so' comment, but Pansy was more interested in the breakfast Pippy had just delivered.

'No other comment? Just 'good'?'

'Darling, I've known you since before you could walk. You can't hide things from me. I've known how you felt about Harry for ages. Suspected it from when we were teenagers, actually.'

'That's ridiculous,' Draco protested. 'I hated him for all of my school years.'

Pansy merely sighed and looked up at Draco, her regard and fondness for him shining brightly in her eyes. 'On the outside,' she said. 'But I remember the boy who used to cling to his lovey every night.'

'What's that got to do with anything?'

'Draco, it was a lion. You clung to it like it was life when the Dark Lord took over your house.'

She was speaking like it should be obvious, but Draco had no idea how that was relevant; he'd had the toy since he was a baby.

When he didn't respond, she sighed. 'Who is the epitome of a brave lion? Who is it that was sorted into the House of the lion? Who is it that appears to have saved your life on more than one occasion?'

She was becoming exasperated now, but Draco barely noticed because the dull thump of realisation made all the blood rush from his face.

'Bloody hell,' he breathed. It couldn't be true! Had he somehow _known_ all along that Harry was special to him, that he might have strong feelings for him that weren't related to jealousy and hatred? 'But it can't be,' he said, refusing to believe it. 'I had that toy as a baby when I'd never even heard of Harry Potter.'

'So you've said, but in all the years I've known you, I never once saw it before that summer after fifth year. After that, you clung to it so tightly, I was almost jealous.' Her voice had become softer. 'I often wondered if it was just the fact that he was the one supposed to defeat the Dark Lord, or if it meant something else.'

Draco sat there silently, breakfast untouched on the table. He could feel Pansy looking at him and he made a real effort to shake off his shock, but she knew him too well.

'Don't worry about it, darling,' she said. He looked up at her and blinked. 'It's all worked out, hasn't it? You know now and you look ridiculously sappy. Or you did a few moments ago. Surely that's all that matters?'

Draco took a deep breath; she was right. A tremulous smile worked its way to his lips and he took another deep breath. 'You're right.' The smile grew more confident. 'I have a real chance to be happy now, I finally have what I must have always wanted.'

'And I couldn't be more pleased for you, darling.' Pansy gave him a genuine smile. 'Though you've basically ruined my plans for leaving dear old Markus and running off with you to make pretty Malfoy babies.' Draco could tell she wasn't serious; she knew, as much as Draco loved her, he wouldn't have been able to give her babies; his body just didn't work that way.

'You'll have to work on Blaise if you want pretty babies,' he replied. 'If you can pry him away from that Bones girl – Susan, was it? He seems a bit taken with her. Our Blaise might have met his perfect match.'

Pansy gave a theatrical sigh. 'What is the world coming to? Theo is a psychotic maniac, Blaise is all starry eyed over a Hufflepuff and you, my dear, are besotted with a Gryffindor. I despair of my Slytherin boys.'

Draco scowled momentarily at the mention of _Nott_; the Aurors had better do their job and catch the man soon. 'We'll have to find you a malleable Ravenclaw, then,' he replied in the same tone.

Pansy's eyes widened in mock horror. 'Don't even think of it. They would bore me to tears before we even made it into the bedroom.'

Draco laughed and then turned serious for a moment. 'People aren't always what you think them to be,' he said.

'That's true enough,' she agreed, and returned to her breakfast. 'All right, I'll leave it to you to find me someone suitable. And if he is worth it, I might even leave Markus and start fresh.'

If Draco had been holding his cutlery, he would have dropped it. This was the first time she had spoken seriously about leaving her ageing husband. 'You're serious?'

She shrugged. 'Why not? I deserve to be happy, just like you are.' She smiled at him. 'I like seeing you happy; your face is transformed.'

Draco returned the smile; feeling unaccountably flattered. 'You do deserve it,' he said softly.

'I think I really knew for sure Harry would be the one, the day of the photo shoot. You looked amazing that day, Draco, remember? I don't think I'd ever seen you looking so happy, so…right in the moment…like nothing and no one else in the world mattered. And then, last night…the way you looked at him…I want that, Draco.'

'I'm very lucky,' he said, and he meant it. For once in his life he was admitting to luck – not accepting good fortune as his due, not blaming someone else for something going wrong, just grateful. He blinked at the unfamiliar feeling, while resolutely pushing to the back of his mind that it hadn't been all luck; there had been a Dark Arts spell that had some influence. Things were working out for him; he had no wish to examine the shame of his actions. He would just have to work hard from now on to make up for it.

'Well, don't fuck it up,' Pansy said bringing him back to the conversation.

'I don't plan on it.'

'There is one thing you have to do,' Pansy said. 'You have to tell him about the spell.'

'No!' Draco replied, firm. 'There is no point in raising that, now. That would be the one thing that would end this relationship practically before it's even begun. I can't risk it.'

'So you'll base your whole relationship on a lie, instead?'

Draco bristled. 'Whatever happened to letting the good guys lose one for a change?'

'You said it yourself, Draco. He's not what we thought.'

'No one needs to know.' Draco frowned at her, adamant. 'It didn't hurt anyone, nothing bad happened because of it, we can just forget it ever happened.'

Pansy persisted, though; she was a stubborn woman, he'd give her that. '_You'll_ never forget it and there will always be a doubt in your head that he only loves you because of the spell. You'll be miserable after only a few years.'

'Why do you want to take this away from me?' Draco asked, becoming really annoyed at his best friend. 'Are you seriously trying to make me throw away the one thing that has made me happier than I've ever been because of your conscience?'

'No,' she said. She slammed her knife down onto the plate, the clang echoing around the room. Her normally pretty face was flushed and her expression exasperated. 'I'm trying to make sure you can hang on to something _real_, Draco, something you can say you earned, because Harry fell in love with _you_ and not some godforsaken Dark Arts spell.'

'I did earn it!' Draco raised his voice. 'Harry can resist _Imperius _you know. That stupid spell won't have had any effect on him.'

'Can you take that risk?'

'It's a smaller risk than telling him about it!' Draco replied hotly. Couldn't she see that?

Pansy made a disgusted noise and stood, hands on hips, the red napkin still gripped in her fingers a slash of colour against her white robe. 'I've known and loved you all my life, Draco Malfoy, despite the fact that you're the most self-centred, egotistical, …arrogant man I've ever known. And I knew your father so that's saying something.'

Draco was too angry to tell her that they all meant the same thing; she'd likely hex him if he did anyway. Besides, she wasn't finished.

'These last months, you've changed. You're more considerate of people; you occasionally think of someone other than yourself. You pay attention to them rather than using them.' She held her hand up when he went to interrupt. 'I don't care if it all started out as an act. As time went on, it became truth and you know it, despite what you tell yourself. And because of the good things you've been able to achieve as a result of the spell, you've earned the respect of so many people. But if you can't see that most of the change is because of Harry, then you don't deserve him; _you didn't earn him_.'

'Pansy…' Draco started, much of his anger having drained from him at the truth of her words. He had no idea how to respond, feeling lost in the war between what was right and what was…wrong?…easy?

'No, I'm done,' she said in a huff, dropping the napkin on top of her half eaten breakfast. 'When you come to your senses, let me know.' She moved toward the door but stopped and turned. 'Just remember that if Blaise and I know all your faults and love you anyway, what makes you think Harry won't? He deserves that sort of respect from you, Draco, you need to tell him.'

Draco's eyes widened in dismay as, over Pansy's shoulder, he saw Harry entering the room.

'Morning, Pansy,' Harry said smiling. Draco sat rigid with fear; he couldn't take his eyes off Harry. 'Tell me what?' Harry looked back and forth between Pansy and Draco.


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Not Mine

* * *

Author's Notes: Almost there; only one more chapter to go. Thanks to nocturnali and groolover for the beta!

Enjoy, and sorry about the cliffie again.

jamie

xxxx

* * *

Every mistake Draco had ever made in his life paraded before his mind's eye. Every one of them, lined up three deep as far back as the eye could see.

'Draco?' Harry asked. Draco blinked and focused back on Harry's face, seeing mild confusion and a hint of worry there. He swallowed, and the crowd of mistakes in his head parted, making way for the biggest, ugliest one of all; the one that was going to hurt more than all the rest put together.

'Come on, Draco, it can't be as bad as all that,' Harry said, clearly trying to smile confidently, but a slip of unease had worked its way into his tone.

Draco's eyes slid to Pansy's in the futile hope that she might take pity on him and _do something_ but the firm line of her mouth dashed any hope.

'I'll leave you boys to it then, and be warned, Draco if you don't tell him, I will.' Pansy glared at Draco, then nodded to Harry before leaving.

Draco was still too numb to move. Or breathe, it seemed, as he gasped when he inhaled. How could Pansy have betrayed him like this? It wasn't as if he could _do_ anything about the spell now; couldn't reverse it or cast a counter spell. Nothing like that. What was done was done and now Pansy expected him to put his whole relationship on the line for something that couldn't ever be fixed.

Harry was going to hate him.

Still, perhaps Draco deserved it. And, as his inner self snorted at that suggestion, he realised that he really had grown up in the last six months if he was even considering the possibility that he'd brought this on himself. Always, there had been someone else to push the blame onto; to make responsible for Draco's failings. Now he accepted that he had no one to blame but himself. He'd orchestrated himself into this position and now he had to try and find a way out.

For surely there must be a way out? A way to salvage something of their relationship? Now that he'd found Harry, he didn't want to let him go. Not ever. For that one reason alone he could not regret what he'd done. That spell had brought him Harry and taught him many hard lessons about himself and about love. Oh, Merlin…how was he to do without him now?

Harry was getting more concerned; Draco could see the frown lines settling into his forehead. He had to say something. But what?

And for fuck's sake, why was he acting like a whipped puppy already? The way he was angsting all over the place, anyone would think that a rogue Hufflebunny gene had struck him.

Pansy was right in one way – if Harry really loved him, he'd understand. When they'd talked, hadn't Draco said he wanted someone who wouldn't up and leave him if he did something wrong? And hadn't Harry said Draco could trust him?

Draco just hoped that this wasn't one of those deal breaker things that you didn't know how you'd feel about until it happened.

'Draco, you're beginning to worry me,' Harry said, crouching in front of him and taking Draco's hand in his. Draco watched Harry's thumb rub his knuckle, still detached and knowing he needed to start the conversation somehow, but unable and unwilling to start. He was procrastinating and he knew it.

Draco forced his eyes back up to meet Harry's. 'I'm sorry,' he blurted, before he could stop himself.

'What's going on?' Harry frowned.

Taking a deep breath, Draco patted Harry's hand. 'You'd better be sitting down for this,' he said and was surprised that his voice remained fairly stable.

'This is not one of those things where you confess to having led me on the whole time while planning to marry Pansy the minute she is free from her husband, is it?' Harry's attempt at a joke made Draco wince.

'Nothing quite so simple, I'm afraid,' Draco replied. He tried to convince himself that Harry would understand; he'd be upset and angry but eventually he'd understand because the only person that had been hurt through all this was himself. Draco had been the one to end up in front of a curse and Draco had been the one that Nott tried to poison and then tied to a chair and tried to do depraved things to. And everyone else had benefitted. Everyone. From his friends, to his mother, to the orphanage, to …everyone. Except maybe ginger bits. Draco scowled; she wasn't worth Harry anyway.

But Draco knew better; using Dark magic for selfish reasons was something that Harry was just not going to understand, nor condone, no matter what the circumstances were.

'Do you remember what it was like for me after the war?' Draco asked quietly, resigned to explaining the whole thing.

'Only from what you've told me. I rarely saw you until you jumped in front of the spell for me. I do remember that day at Madam Malkin's though.' Harry reached for Draco's hand. 'Was it always like that?'

Draco gave a rueful smile. 'That was tame compared to some of the things that happened. At least she would have served me. Many times the shopkeeper would pointedly ignore me until I got tired of waiting and left. Or else they'd physically remove me from their shop. People would spit at me in the streets or cross the road to avoid walking the same path as I was on.' Draco's eyes hardened in memory.

'I'm sorry, Draco, I never knew it was like that.' Harry's hand squeezed Draco's.

'Why would you have? You were the Golden Boy and every time you stepped outside the door, the sun shone and the birds tweeted and everything was right with the world. Anything and everything was laid on for your benefit.' Draco hated the bitter tone that had crept into his voice.

'It wasn't as bad as that,' Harry argued. 'Besides, I hated all that stuff and wished that I could just walk the streets like a normal person and be ignored.'

'Right. But you're not a normal person, Harry Potter. Took me a long time to discover what sort of person you really are, but you're anything but normal.'

Harry gave him an encouraging squeeze. 'Get on with what you were saying.'

Sighing, Draco continued. 'I could have ended up in Azkaban so many times…When they'd spit at my mother, I'd… Merlin, Harry, _my mother!_ I wanted to hex them so badly… but even a mild one would have landed me in Azkaban and then who would have taken care of her? Pansy made a comment once about you and was set on by at least a dozen thugs who hexed her half to death. It was only that I arrived and managed to get both her and myself behind a shield and Apparated us both to St. Mungo's that she survived.'

'I never knew that,' Harry said quietly. 'She never said anything.'

'She wouldn't. Besides, it wasn't your fault, though I think we both hated you a bit more after that. Unjustly, perhaps, but true nonetheless.'

Harry looked thoughtful. 'Where is this all leading?'

'I think I'm just trying to explain what things were like as a reason for what I did. I think… I don't expect it will make much difference but you should know what I was thinking and feeling and maybe then you won't hate me so much.'

'You think I'll hate you? After all we've been through to get here you think I'll just pretend it never happened?'

'I'm hoping you don't. I'm hoping that I can trust you. You told me I could when I said I wanted someone that wasn't going to leave me when I did something wrong.'

'You can trust me.'

Draco nodded. 'But there's a bigger part of me that expects you to walk out the door.'

'Bloody hell, Draco, what is it that you've done?'

Draco pursed his lips at the exasperated tone in Harry's voice. Then he pressed on. 'I saw you all over the place, in the newspapers and magazines, always surrounded by people who loved you, would do anything for you, treated you like royalty, and I wanted that. I was so tired of being hated and vilified and ignored, I wanted what you had. I wanted people to love me.' Draco was upset by the time he was finished. 'We tried to do the right thing – give money to charities, sponsor rebuilding or new projects – but no one would take our money. We tried to rejoin society and pay our dues but no one would listen, no one paid attention, no one cared.'

There was concern in Harry's expression now, but Draco ignored it and continued.

'I didn't want to be hated any more. I searched through my father's library and found a spell. A Dark spell. I wanted what you had, and the spell would transfer the public's attention from you to me. All the love that was showered on you was to come to me.'

Silence screamed around the room. Draco barely breathed in his anxiety and he kept his eyes diverted to the floor, not able to bear seeing Harry's expression turn to hatred and disgust.

After what seemed like an eternity, Harry spoke. 'You used Dark magic because you wanted to have what I had?' he asked softly. The tone in his voice made Draco shiver and look at him, only to see that the tone belied the expression. Harry was furious.

'Yes,' Draco replied.

'You manipulated the emotions and thoughts of the whole wizarding world because you wanted to be loved?'

'Yes,' Draco said. 'But no one was hurt and–'

'Of course people were hurt! You altered people's feelings without their permission and against their will. How is that not hurting people?'

'There was no other way! I couldn't stand to live like that one moment longer.' Draco was getting angry now. 'I was being victimised every day of my life. I was helpless and could do nothing to protect myself or my mother, or even my friends. I wasn't going to continue living like that!'

'You could have come to me!'

'What?' Draco laughed. 'How could I have done that? Why would I have done that?'

'I told you that day at Madam Malkin's that we should try and move past all that. Why didn't you take me up on it?'

'And what reason did I have to think that you'd even listen to me? Why would I think that you'd even believe me? Last I heard we hated each other. For all I knew you'd laugh at me and tell me I deserved it.'

'I wouldn't have done that! I told you, you knew nothing about me.'

'Exactly! I agree, I didn't know anything about you. What I did know, I didn't like. There was no reason in the world to trust you with how life was going for me. None. I had no other choice.'

'There's always a choice, Draco.'

'Oh, spare me. My choice was doing nothing and doing something. I chose to do something.' Draco sneered, internally concerned with how easy it was to fall back into old habits.

'You're still defending what you did?' Harry was incredulous. 'You were anxious about me hating you a minute ago, so I know you do have a conscience.'

'Yes, well I have to defend my actions because they brought me to you. And that's not something I will regret, ever.'

'You've hurt so many people, Draco, how can you not regret that?'

'Because I don't care about them! They judged me and hated me without my permission, ostracised me from my own society against my will. They deserve what they got. Besides, they're happy. The world didn't fall apart, a new Dark Lord wasn't born. People just love me now. That's the only difference.'

'And me? Manipulating my feelings is something you don't regret?'

Draco shook his head. 'You seem to have an inbuilt block against people being able to influence you, you can throw off Imperius and you pushed Voldemort out when he tried to possess you, so I'm told, so you won't have been affected by the spell anyway.'

'How can you be sure?'

'Because not everyone loves me. In case you've forgotten, Nott is trying to kill me.'

'He's obsessed with you.'

'Semantics. He's still trying to kill me. So the spell doesn't work on everyone and everything.'

'I guess we'll never know, will we?' Harry said. 'I'll never know, will I?' His expression had faded from anger to betrayal and hurt. Draco wanted to take every word back; never have told him about the spell, never have broken his heart.

'Where is this spell book?'

'In the library,' Draco said. 'Harry, I know I love you–'

'Pippy!' Harry interrupted and the elf appeared almost immediately. 'Pippy, I need you to get me a spell book from the library. Which one is it, Draco?'

'The blue one on the bottom shelf,' Draco replied, giving in to Harry's curt tone. Pippy looked anxiously between the both of them obviously picking up on the tension in the air. 'It's all right, Pippy, go and get the book,' Draco told him, gently.

When the elf had gone, Draco spoke. 'What are you going to do?'

Harry looked at him, eyes troubled and…sad. 'I have no idea, but I have to get out of here.'

'Harry no, please don't go,' Draco pleaded, heart breaking but knowing he deserved it.

'I can't stay here.'

'You'll be back?'

Pippy arrived back in the room with the book and handed it solemnly to Harry. He thanked Pippy, gave Draco a quick glance that told Draco nothing, and left the room.

Draco wanted to run after Harry and not let him leave, hold him down somewhere until they talked all this out and worked it through and everything was all right again.

But he didn't. Couldn't.

'Master?' Draco had almost forgotten the elf was still there.

'What is it?'

'Master Harry is coming back, yes?'

Draco couldn't answer. He wanted to say yes, Harry was coming back, but he knew it was a lie. Harry wasn't coming back. Not ever.

00000

'Go away, Pansy, I don't want to see you.'

'Don't be an idiot, I'm your best friend.'

'You were until you…' Draco sighed. What difference did it make anyway? Pansy could bloody well move in for all he cared. 'Do what you want,' he said tiredly and returned to staring into the fire. Even though it was too hot for a fire, he'd ordered one lit, letting his mind go blank even as he watched the flames dancing and forming into bright silhouettes that all seemed to look like Harry.

'Don't you think you're being a bit melodramatic, darling?' she asked, dropping onto the couch next to him.

'Hm.' He wasn't paying any attention.

'You're better off without him.'

Draco did hear that and he snarled. 'What would you know of love? You're married to an old goat.'

As soon as he'd said it he regretted it, but he refused to take it back. She'd ruined his life and apparently she didn't care.

She was silent for a moment but Draco could hear the sharp hiss of pain beside him. It did stab at his conscience but...well, too bad.

'I'd say so. You can't have loved him that much if you're willing to let him go without a fight.'

'Leave it. Just go away.'

But the annoying pest wouldn't; she continued. 'I know if it was me, I'd be banging on his door demanding to talk to him, making a spectacle of myself until he gave in.'

'No you wouldn't; you'd knock on his door politely and when he answered it you'd hex his balls off.'

'I would,' she agreed, sighing. 'Draco, you can't give up.'

'You didn't see him, Pansy, you didn't see his face. He was shattered.'

'Doesn't that show how much he felt for you, though? If he hadn't loved you so much, he wouldn't have been so hurt.'

Draco pursed his lips, frowning, and turned to her.' Why did you make me tell him in the first place? Everything would have been all right had you just kept your nose out of my life!'

'Because now when he comes back, you'll be starting with honesty.'

'Don't you get it?' Draco yelled. 'He won't be coming back!'

'Not if you sit here on your arse moping, he won't. You're going to have to go and bring him back!' Pansy yelled, just as loudly.

'He doesn't want to come back.'

'Isn't that proof, then, that the spell didn't affect him?'

'He…what?' Draco caught up with what Pansy had said and blinked.

'I said that if he doesn't want you…'

'I heard what you said. You're right. And when he figures that out he'll be back.' Hope suddenly blossomed in Draco's chest. It was as clear as the nose on his face; when Harry worked it out, he'd be back.

Pansy snorted. 'He's almost as oblivious as you are, darling, you're going to have to go and tell him.'

'I am?'

'You are. Would you like me to come with you?'

'No. I think this is something I need to do myself. You think he'll listen to me?'

'He'd be mad not to. The way you two have been these last weeks made me bloody envious of you myself.'

'You'd better be right, or I really am going to kick you to the kerb. Pippy!' he called.

When the elf appeared, Draco asked him to lay out one of his best suits.

'Master is going to bring Master Harry back?' Pippy asked, hopping from one foot to the other, looking hopeful and agitated at the same time.

'I'm going to try.'

'Good. The house-elfs is getting worried about Master Harry Potter not being here.' The elf visibly relaxed.

Draco frowned. 'Why is it so important that Harry be here?'

'We is not knowing; only that Master Draco is not safe without his Harry Potter to bang into walls with.'

Draco bit his lip to curb the urge to reprimand the elf.

'I'll do my best to bring him back, Pippy. Now, my clothes if you please.'

00000

Ten minutes later, Draco was knocking on the door to Harry's flat. He waited, but could hear nothing from the interior and sighed. Ron had sworn Harry was home; it had taken a bit to get Ron to give him any information. Obviously word of Draco's misdeed had travelled – hopefully not to a place where he'd be arrested and thrown into Azkaban - and he guessed he was not very popular with Harry's friends at the moment. It took Draco reminding Ron that if he felt any bad feelings towards Draco then he wasn't under the influence of the spell, for Ron to come round and admit that Harry should be home.

Draco knocked again, harder this time.

'Hello, Draco,' a voice said from behind him. A voice that raised shivers along Draco's spine. He turned, praying he was wrong, but knowing he wasn't; he'd know that voice anywhere.

'Nott.' Draco put as much sneer into his voice as he could manage. He thought furiously about escape and how he could get word to Harry and the Aurors – and why the Hell wasn't Harry answering his door? 'How did you know I was here?'

'That spell I cast when we were rudely interrupted last time.' There was amusement in Nott's eyes… Nott's mad eyes.

'That was a tracing spell?'

'Pretty smart, I thought. I knew you wouldn't stay holed up in the Manor for too long; you adore your public too much.' Nott sneered as he spoke. 'I merely waited until you left and followed you here. To _his_ place, I assume?'

'Yes, this is Harry's flat. You should leave now before the Aurors turn up here en masse and arrest your sorry arse.'

Nott laughed and Draco noticed that he had his wand out, hanging loosely by his side, tapping his leg rhythmically. At least it wasn't raised at him. Yet.

'What do you see in him?'

Merlin, surely Draco's bracelet would have warned Harry by now something was wrong – but then Harry had probably removed it after he left. Draco kicked his foot back at the door, hearing the thud and hoping that Harry was home. He'd have to keep Nott talking as long as possible and try not to set him off. Draco's heart was thudding loudly in his ears, making his chest hurt.

'He's brave, Theo. He can't help himself.'

Nott frowned. 'I could have been brave for you. I wanted to protect you but you never even noticed I existed.'

'You couldn't have saved me from Voldemort; he was stronger than all of us except Harry.'

'You were always obsessed with him; I never got a look in. There never was a chance for me, was there?'

'I'm sorry, Theo, but no. I'm just learning myself that I only ever had eyes for Harry.'

Nott's eyes narrowed. 'I want you to look at me.'

'I am.' Draco was careful to keep his eyes on Nott.

'I want my face to be the last thing you ever see.'

Draco's heart skipped several beats. 'You're going to kill me?' His voice squeaked in panic but he didn't care.

'Killing you won't serve my purpose any more. I want you to live with my face being the last thing you ever see for the rest of your life.'

Draco scrambled for his wand, because whatever happened next he wasn't going down without a fight. He barely had time to pull it from its holster before he was slammed into the wall by a spell. He slumped to the ground, eyes clenched at the pain radiating through his head from where it smashed into the wall.

Something hard collided with the side of his head and he descended, screaming in pain, into unconsciousness.


	21. Chapter 21

**Disclaimer:** Not Mine

**Author's notes: ** Originally written for **aoifene**'s cancelled Seven Deadly Sins Angst collection. The prompt I chose was **Envy.** Thanks to **aoifene**, **weasleywench** and **nocturnali** for their unwavering support and encouragement. And thank you yo **groolover** for the beta on this chapter.

**The title is a line from Dante's _The Divine Comedy: Purgatory,_ Canto XIII. Translated by The Rev. H. F. Cary, M.A.**

Finally finished it! I make no apologies for Draco's condition. I know some of you will hate it, but the whole idea behind writing the story was to write angst about the deadly sin of Envy. Dante's punishment for Envy was to lose one's eyes - blindness in this case. And in the end, blindness is not the worst thing that could happen to a person.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this last chapter.

jamie

xxxx

* * *

Chapter 21.

Somewhere in the haze of pain, Draco heard voices. They seemed to be speaking quietly, though he could tell by their tone they were tense. Not that he could understand a word they were saying past the pounding in his head.

So he supposed he wasn't dead then, unless he'd taken Pansy with him, because he did recognise hers as one of the voices. Hospital must be the only other alternative.

How…? Everything came rushing back in a flood of memories and with them came the fear: the very real fear that Nott had carried out his threat. He was sure he must have whimpered or made some sort of noise as the voices moved closer and became excited. The only word he could make out though was his name. The only voice he recognised was Pansy's.

As he concentrated on trying to will the pain in his head away, a louder, much more strident male voice dominated.

'Everyone move away from the bed while I do some tests!'

Draco tried to open his eyes, but felt a pressure over them that he assumed was a bandage of some sort. He opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the male voice he'd just heard.

'Mr. Malfoy. You are in St. Mungo's after an attack on your person. Do you remember what happened?'

Draco nodded, then grimaced at the added pain this caused..

'Good. Are you in any pain?'

Draco nodded once more.

'All right, we'll get you something for that. I have to tell you that there is extensive damage to your eyes. Please don't try and remove the bandages.' The voice was assertive and yet held compassion. He assumed the man was a Healer. Draco felt like he needed to cry.

Strong arms helped him to sit up, and for a moment the pain in his head made him so dizzy that he gripped onto the arms tightly. The support remained until he felt more stable and released them. A cup was held to his lips and he was instructed to drink. He did so, tasting familiar pain relief potion. After a few moments the pain receded enough that he could think more clearly.

Then he smelled her perfume and almost broke down. 'Mother,' he called, reaching out in front of him like a plea. A soft rustle and then she was there, squeezing his hand for all she was worth.

'Oh, Draco,' she whispered, and took Draco into her arms where he clung, curling up into her like he had as a child when he'd been afraid of the dark.

'I'm all right, now,' he said, trying to console her. She rocked him, murmuring softly into his hair, and he could feel the trembling in her arms as they held him tight, her heart beating rapidly under his ear.

'He's going to need a lot of care while he adjusts to not having his sight,' the Healer said.

Draco heard Pansy gasp in the background. 'There's nothing…?' her voice strained.

'Not with this curse. I'm so very sorry. I wish there was more we could do. We've managed to keep the scarring to a minimum, but…' The Healer sounded defeated.

Pansy sniffled in the corner and his mother tightened her arms around him.

Draco had no idea how to feel; the whole idea of being blind seemed too unbelievable to be true. Surely when they removed the bandages he'd open his eyes and be able to see as normal. Nott wasn't powerful enough that he'd be able to permanently blind him.

He opened his mouth to say just that, but realised that he didn't know how he'd ended up in St. Mungo's. He asked that instead.

'Harry found you,' his mother said. 'He arrived too late to prevent the attack but he bound Theo and then brought you here.'

'Where is he?' Draco asked, disentangling himself from his mother's arms. The slight hope that Harry was still here and had maybe forgiven him was dashed in the silence that followed his question.

After several more moments, Draco sighed. 'I see. Well, no I don't actually, do I?' Bitter helplessness rose in his throat. 'I'm tired. I want to sleep now. Would you all leave me alone?'

'Draco…'

'I said, leave me alone.' His voice rose, desperate for them to just go. 'I don't want your help, I don't want your pity, I don't want to even speak to you, Pansy. Just, please, leave me alone!'

He heard Pansy sniffle again as she left, and his mother placed a soft kiss on his head before giving him a final squeeze and letting him go. 'I'll come back later, then,' she said softly. Draco nodded.

'I'm sorry, mother, I love you but I need to be alone.'

'I understand.' Draco could hear the sadness in her tone and he cringed and wondered if she would sound like that every time she spoke to him for the rest of his life.

When she left, the Healer came to stand beside him. Draco had almost forgotten he was still in the room.

'This is a big shock to you, I understand that. I've done all the tests I can do at the moment and, apart from the loss of your eyesight and some slight scarring around them, you have several bruises around your face, which will heal with no additional scarring. Other than that, you're perfectly healthy, so you can go home tomorrow probably, after we determine that there are no other side effects of the curse.'

Draco nodded, appreciating the straightforward explanation of his condition.

'I'll be back later to check on you.'

Draco nodded again. 'Thank you.'

As soon as Draco heard the door close, he curled up on his bed and wept, desolate. Harry had saved him – again – but still wanted nothing to do with him. Part of him wished Harry had just left him to his fate. Maybe Nott should have finished the job after all.

…

Draco inhaled. It _smelled_ like home at least. The thought of being somewhere safe again revived him a little until he realised that this haven would become his prison.

'Master Draco, you is home!' Pippy squeaked. It was lucky Draco had paused at the door because Pippy flung himself at Draco's legs and clung tightly. Had Draco been walking still, he would have tripped and been brought to ground.

'Get off me,' he snapped at the creature, reining in most of his temper because, oddly enough, he held some fondness for the house-elf.

His mother still held tightly to his arm as if to guide him, and Draco hated that he needed assistance to move around in his own home.

'Sorry, Master. Pippy is so happy to have Master Draco back home again. Pippy is taking very good care of Master now he is home.'

'Yes, Pippy, thank you.' His mother's voice was terse and worried. Draco wasn't sure what _she_ had to worry about. _She_ could see. He realised with regret that it was an uncharitable thought and added it to the pile of despairing thoughts he was accumulating. 'We'll take tea in the –'

'I'd rather go to my room,' Draco interrupted.

'Draco…?'

'I don't want to talk about it,' he said. 'I just want to be on my own.'

'Sooner or later you're going to have to talk about it,' his mother insisted.

'Not today.'

'Ignoring the problem won't make it go away, Draco, we need to make adjustments. You'll need–'

'I don't need anything!' Draco yelled, agitated and desperately wanting to just get away.

'You may be blind, Draco but you will mind your manners when addressing me. There is no excuse for rudeness.'

Draco sighed. 'You're right, I apologise. You make whatever adjustments you need to and I'll fit in with your wishes.' He may as well; he had no control over what happened any more. Without his sight he would never be independent; never need to not rely on someone to assist him. 'Pippy, lead me to my room, please.'

Draco held out an arm and after a short silence, he felt a tiny hand take his timidly. 'This way, Master Draco.'

His mother sighed as he followed Pippy, listening carefully to the instructions about stairs and corners. When they reached his room and Draco found his bed, he lay down, quite determined to never rise again.

….

The next morning – well he assumed it was morning; he could smell toast and coffee in the room – someone banged on his door.

'Go away,' he yelled, pulling the covers over his head, although why he bothered he had no idea; it made no difference to the light, seeing as he couldn't see light or dark.

'You have to come downstairs and deal with this! There are reporters camped on the front lawns all waiting for some statement from you.'

'Get Pansy to do it; she's supposed to be my manager.'

The door opened and his mother entered the room. 'They want to see you, Draco, and know that you're all right.'

'Well, I'm not going out there. You think I want people to see me like this? Why can't they just all leave me alone?'

'There's a lot of people concerned about you. We've received hundreds of letters and cards all wishing you well. People love you and they want to know that you're all right.'

Draco felt her sit down on the edge of his bed. The covers were withdrawn from over his head and a cool hand brushed his hair back from his face. He leant into her touch, grateful.

'I want my privacy, I don't want to be gawked at like some kind of freak.'

'You can't stay in here forever.' Her voice was soft, full of love, and Draco knew she was right, but he couldn't face anyone. Not yet. And he definitely wasn't going to face reporters and assorted hangers-on. Not any time soon. Probably never. Pity was an emotion he'd never dealt with well.

'Why not?'

'Living your life in here is not living, Draco,' she replied sternly.

'I know, but there's nothing for me out there, anyway.'

'I'm disappointed in you, Draco,' he heard her say, sadness in her tone. 'Everything you had before is still there for you, you only have to make some adjustments and it can still all be yours.'

It wasn't true. Harry wasn't there, and Draco thought that hurt more than being blind.

…

'Pippy! I want a shower!'

A week of lying in bed feeling sorry for himself had allowed Draco plenty of time to think about his situation. He'd had visits from his mother and Blaise, but he'd refused to see Pansy. He knew he shouldn't blame her but he couldn't help feeling resentment towards her. Neither Blaise nor his mother had mentioned the smell of an unwashed Draco, even though he could smell himself, but they had tried to make him get up.

He'd ignored them, preferring to wallow in memories of things he'd never see again. He'd never see Harry's crooked smile, never be able to read every emotion expressed clearly in Harry's face, never be able to see the love shining in his eyes, never again be able to see that curious blend of pain and ecstasy on Harry's face as he came.

After several days, Draco realised that even had he not been blind he'd still never see those things again as he'd lost Harry anyway.

Pippy had been helpful: assisting him to the toilet and bringing him his meals, placing the tray just so and explaining what sort of food there was and where each dish was placed. Draco had eaten desultorily at first but then noticed how much he could tell just by using his other senses. Most of the food Pippy brought had a smell and that told him how to eat it. He also noticed the texture of the food in his mouth and the taste of it more.

He began to wonder how much else he could discern just by paying attention. Every time someone walked into his room, he knew who it was from their smell and the sound of their walk. His mother's perfume gave her away, but also the swish of her robes.

He still wore something covering his eyes, as the last time he'd tried to go without, he'd spent so long blinking, instinctively thinking that surely the next time he blinked his sight would come back, that he had tears streaming down his face in frustration. Better not to tempt his brain into thinking that would happen again.

But now after a week, the inactivity was making him restless. Nothing was going to bring Harry back and nothing was going to be able to make him see again, and possibly it was about time he resigned himself to this and started to find out what he could do, instead of fixating on what he couldn't.

…

After showering and feeling rather pleased with himself that he only suffered the sting of shampoo in his eyes the once and even managed to dress himself after Pippy laid out his clothes, Draco sat on the edge of his bed and took a deep breath.

'Right, Pippy, you'll have to help me learn my bedroom. I want you to tell me where everything is and we'll work out how many steps away things are.'

Draco could practically feel the house-elf bouncing. 'Pippy is helping Master Draco! Pippy can be helping master Draco by putting cushioning spells on Master's furniture.'

Draco frowned. 'I don't want the house having to be cushioned in case I bump into everything. Is there something you can do on me instead, like a proximity charm that will let me know when I am too close to an obstacle?' For the other thing that Draco regretted was the loss of the ability to perform many of the spells he'd always taken for granted. Most needed to be aimed at something specific and Draco had no point of reference. In time he would try and relearn how to use magic differently. One thing at a time, though.

'Oh, yes, Master is very clever! Pippy can be doing that.'

'That will do, Pippy.'

…

Over the next several weeks, Draco learned the entire Manor. He made many mistakes and often ended up in the study rather than the dining room, and once nearly fell down the stairs when he miscounted the steps but, overall, he felt rather proud of himself for being able to move relatively freely around his own home.

He knew his mother was pleased by his change of attitude; her bright voice and pleasure at seeing him making an effort were evident.

There were still times when his despair got the better of him; times when he thought he could smell Harry, for instance. Those times reopened the wound in his heart; leaving it gaping and making him lash out at everyone around him. He was never proud of his behaviour at those times, but pushed that guilt aside; he had too many other important things to feel guilty about.

He was still hounded by reporters looking for a story on Draco Malfoy and what he was doing with his time now. Draco refused all interviews and invitations, saying that he'd prefer his privacy. Eventually they dwindled down to one or two a week. Draco almost laughed at how he would have hated that only months ago. Now he was merely grateful.

Pansy began visiting again. After a few tense meetings, she flung herself into his arms and begged him to forgive her. By then he'd already worked through his issues with her, accepting finally that it had not been her fault, even though he'd have liked to blame someone other than himself.

'There's nothing to forgive, Pans,' he said as he held her close, feeling her trembling and smelling her perfume. 'I should never have done the spell in the first place.'

'But I still feel responsible,' she said, pulling away and taking hold of his hands.

Draco shook his head and gave her a smile. 'Don't. What's done is done and there's not much I can do about it.'

'What will you do now?'

Draco shrugged. 'I'm not sure. I'm still working out what I can do. I've only just worked out how to get around the Manor without Pippy or mother holding my hand. It will be a long time before I start thinking of doing something with my life. Tell me about what you've been up to?'

She pulled him over to a seat and he sat down beside her. 'I left Markus,' she said.

Draco smiled. 'Really? How did that go?'

'Not as badly as I'd feared. He was very decent in the end and settled a large sum of money on me so I wouldn't be without anything.'

'Good. I'm glad.'

Pansy squeezed his hand. 'Now I can marry you and we can have a million Malfoy babies,' she said and Draco found it hard to understand the tone in her voice. He wondered if she was serious. He'd often said in the past that he'd have married her, and it had been true then because he loved her as a friend and wanted her happy. Now…now he knew what real love felt like and he wouldn't consign her to that. Or himself for that matter. And if she was offering out of pity, well, that was an even stronger reason not to do it.

He decided to assume she was joking and he chuckled. 'You and my mother living under the same roof? I don't think so.'

Pansy went still next to him; he could feel the tension in her body. 'Are you saying you don't want to marry me?'

'Pansy,' he started. 'Why would you even want to marry me? You'd be swapping one loveless marriage for another.'

'So all the times you said you'd have married me were all just lies?' Her voice was becoming hard and he knew it was a prelude to her letting her temper get the better of her.

'No! But circumstances are different now.'

'Why? I'm still me, and you're still Draco.'

'But I'm blind, Pansy, and–'

'I don't care about that!' She raised her voice over Draco's.

'–and I am in love with someone else.'

Pansy dropped his hand with a sound of disgust and he felt her stand and heard her pacing the room. 'Bloody Potter. Well, where is he now, then? Where was he while you were recovering? He's not bloody here, is he? And he's not coming back.'

'He might,' Draco said in a small voice, not even realising he still held out some hope of Harry returning until he voiced it.

Pansy snorted. 'Don't hold out too much hope, Draco. He refused all attempts to speak to me when I contacted him and tried to get him to come back. And he's been seen out with the Weasley girl again.'

The unexpected pain in his chest at that news made Draco gasp. He really should have expected it, though. Harry would want his life to return to how it was prior to the spell.

Everything was returning to how it was before the spell. Perhaps it was returning to how it should always have been. Harry hated him, the public had all but forgotten all about him, letting him slide back into anonymity…he supposed that as long as people didn't curse or spit on him when – if – he went out then that was a bonus.

Still, he felt like a knife had been shoved between his ribs and he placed his hand over his heart as if he expected there to be a real wound there. He was almost surprised when there wasn't; just his heart thumping heavily under his hand.

'I hope he's happy,' Draco managed to whisper, though it cost him every ounce of strength to push the words past his lips.

'He's an arse,' Pansy snapped. 'He should be here with you. If he hadn't been so pig-headed as to leave you in the first place you wouldn't be in this position.'

'Wait.' Draco was confused. 'You're confusing me. One minute you feel responsible for my blindness, the next you want to marry me and then you're blaming Harry for all this? Make your mind up, woman, it's hard enough being blind let alone having to decipher your moods as well.'

'Oh…' Pansy flung herself down onto the chair again in disgust. 'I'm bloody annoyed with Potter. I want you to be happy, that's all, and I figured if it couldn't be with Potter then we would make a great team. But I see you're still madly in love with the prick and so I'm mad at him all over again.'

Dear, dear Pansy. Draco smiled.

'I can't fix _anything_, Draco,' she said and he could hear the tears in her voice.

'You don't need to fix a thing,' he said and reached in her direction. She fell against his side and he wrapped his arms around her while she cried. 'We'll be all right, I promise.'

…

And he was all right. As well as could be expected, in any case. Pippy's proximity charms worked well, though he barely needed them these days. After his discussion with Pansy, he'd decided to find out ways he could take on running the family estates once more. His mother was still seeing her friend Hortin, though they spent a lot more time at the Manor to keep Draco company than he'd like. Draco liked Hortin well enough, but his mother needed to go out and leave Draco to be independent as possible.

These days he had a good excuse for escaping their company: the estate books needed to be constantly updated and letters written and orders given… Draco had found a voice he liked to listen to and charmed the books to read themselves out loud, and used a properly charmed quill to write down his words. He found the work relaxing while making him feel productive and able to contribute something.

He rarely went out; the stress of being in a strange place, and the disorientation he felt at not being able to give himself a point of reference unnerved him too much. Pansy's, Blaise's and occasionally a trip to Gringott's to speak directly to the goblins were the extent of Draco's ventures outside the Manor.

Oddly enough, as time went on he became content with his life to a certain extent. He had family and friends who loved him – and he really understood that now and vowed never ever to again take that for granted. Apart from his eyesight he was fit and healthy; he had no money worries and didn't live in fear of attack any longer. The fact that he'd lost Harry left a huge crushing hole in his heart every time he thought about it, so he tried not to think about it much. He only partially succeeded.

When it was all said and done, though, life was good.

…

He knew it was Harry the moment he stepped into the study. He wasn't sure why, really, as the cologne was different, but he just knew. The movement of the person was like no regular visitor to the Manor and no stranger would be allowed near Draco without being announced.

'Harry?' Draco's heart stuttered and then began to beat faster.

'It's me.'

'Why are you here?'

'May I sit down?' Draco could hear the smile in his voice and could imagine the look on his face. He nodded.

'It's been–'

'A while, I know.'

'Seven months, one week and three days,' Draco said, frowning.

'You remember?'

'You don't?'

'Of course I do. I remember everything,' Harry replied softly.

Draco remained silent; knowing that if he opened his mouth he'd stuff something up again. Whatever this was – one last meeting before cutting off all contact for good, or the start of something resembling a friendship again – Draco wasn't going to do or say anything to ruin that.

'I tried to go back to the way it was before. Tried to get my life back again. I hated you for a while, you know?'

Draco nodded, heart in his mouth. 'I can understand that.' His voice hurt his throat as it forced its way past the lump.

'And I realised that if I could hate you then I wasn't affected by the spell anyway.' Draco heard him sigh. He wanted to feel Harry's strong, safe arms around him again. How he had ached with loneliness after Harry had left. And it had never gone away, no matter how satisfying the rest of his life had become.

'So what does that mean?'

'And then nothing felt right about my old life any more,' Harry continued. 'I wasn't the same person any more and I didn't fit into that life. I'd gone and fallen in love with someone else and even while I hated you I still loved you more than anything.'

Draco gave a tired smile. 'I always said I'd not make things easy for you.'

'It's certainly not been that,' Harry replied, a short laugh suddenly cementing the inevitability of Harry coming home to him.

'Have you come home to me, then?'

A simple touch to the side of his face was his answer. He could imagine how those strong brown hands looked settling gently but surely against the side of his face. He wished he could see them for himself. Just once more.

'Tea?' It was the only thing he could say without bursting into tears of relief. Of happiness.

'Please.'

As snow fell quietly outside, they talked and drank their tea. Draco acquiesced to Earl Grey for once as it was Harry's favourite, and Harry rewarded him by running his fingers over Draco's knuckles.

Draco could feel the tension sliding out from between his ribs, leaving behind an expanding feeling of well-being, a balm that soothed the scars on his soul.

The crushing sense of loss that had pervaded every hint of happiness since he'd been plunged into darkness became less so. Here and now, faced with the force of Harry's love and the certainty of all his tomorrows, Draco knew that he'd be okay. That whatsoever he had lost in the journey to getting here was well worth what it had gained him.

It was something after all.


End file.
